He reached over to the dials and turned the heat on full blast.
“Thanks,” she said as the stiffness began to leave her body, and she sank a little farther into the seat.
He pulled the truck back onto the road and headed in the direction she had been walking. “Where to?”
She pointed a long slim finger straight. Her nails weren’t painted, but kept short and clean. She didn’t have a ring so she wasn’t married. “Make a left at the end of the road and then take it all the way down.”
Mason’s eyebrow arched in curiosity as he glanced over at her. The only thing at the end of Turtle Creek Road was the campsite. “You’re staying at Turtle Creek Reserve?”
She nodded.
Mason was the quiet one in his family, never wanting to compete with five siblings, so he only spoke when he had something important to say or to rip on one of his brothers or sisters. Being part of such a large family, he never had to work for a response, at least not in a way she was making him.
“What’s your name by the way?” he asked, realizing she never told him. Just because he didn’t know who she was didn’t mean he had never heard of her.
“Why?”
“It would be nice to have a name to go with your face. Know who I’m talking to.”
She fidgeted with the strap on her backpack instead of speaking.
“Or I can just call you rain girl. Aquawoman. Kathy Seldon though it was really Don Lockwood who was singin’ in the rain.”
“Cassie,” she mumbled just loud enough for him to hear.
“She speaks,” he said. “So, Cassie.” He liked the way her name rolled off his tongue. “What were you doing walking out in this storm? Planning on singing and dancing?”
“No.”
He turned a glance in her direction, waiting for her to elaborate.
Her lips parted and trembled as a tear fell down her cheek, causing Mason to shift uncomfortably in his seat. Even with three sisters he never got used to a girl crying. It made him feel helpless, and there was nothing he hated more.
She angrily swiped at the teardrop as if she couldn’t believe she let it fall in the first place. “If you most know, I was hoping to find a job, but it seems like no one is hiring. So now I have no idea what I’m going to do.” She laughed, but it wasn’t a humorous sort of laugh it sounded more deranged. “I should’ve known better. Things never work out for me. Did I honestly think a miracle would happen? Miracles aren’t even real. They’re just made up lies people talk about to give you false hope.”
She continued to vent, and Mason sat there listening to everything she was saying. It’s what he did. The reason his brothers and sisters came to him whenever they were having a problem was because he was a good listener. Most of the time they would work their problems out themselves before he could even get a word in.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said, a slight tinge of crimson filling her cheeks before she shook her head. “I didn’t mean to dump on you. It’s been a crappy day.”
Mason pulled the truck to a stop, and Cassie let out a sigh. “I understand,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to be stuck in a car with a lunatic either.” She began to remove the blanket and pull her bag onto her shoulder when he cut the wheel and headed back in the opposite direction.
“What are you doing?” she asked, and he didn’t like the panic lacing her tone, so he turned that Hayes charm on again.
“You need a job.”
“Yes, I do, but—”
“We’re going to see about getting you a job.”
“I told you, no one is hiring. I’ve been everywhere.”
“You haven’t been everywhere.”
“But I walked up and down Main Street.”
“This place isn’t on Main Street.”
“I don’t have a car. I can’t walk far.”
“This place is closer than Main Street.”
“How is that possible?”
With a slight smile still on his face, Mason said, “Miracles,” before he turned his truck into the parking lot of Five Leaf Brewery and shifted into park.
“I didn’t even know this place was here,” Cassie said, staring at the front of the refurbished barn.
“It’s new. What do you know about beer?” Secretly he hoped she had some knowledge, but even if she didn’t she could learn.
“Actually, a lot. I waitressed at a sports bar with over forty taps of craft beer.”
“Perfect.” He needed to hire someone to work the tasting room. He planned on waiting a while, taking his family up on their offer to volunteer their time while he saved some money, but Cassie desperately needed a job, and he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he dropped her off at the campsite and never looked back. The fact that she had knowledge about beer already was somewhat of a miracle. “Now come on.”
“Where?”
“You have an interview.”
“What? No. I look horrible.” She tried running fingers through her hair, but kept getting snagged on knots.
Mason glanced over at her, her hair was sopping wet, hanging in long waves on her shoulders, and her eyes were a little puffy around the edges, but he could see beyond the disheveled mess and see the beauty beneath. “I have a feeling that’s impossible.”
Mason hopped out of the truck and was happy when Cassie was right behind him. He stuck the key into the lock. “You work here?” she asked, sounding a bit surprised.
“Something like that.”
“Do you think the owner will like me?”
“I think the owner will like you just fine.”
He held the door, letting her in from the rain. She had grabbed her backpack and hoisted it up on her shoulder as she looked around the tasting room. Drops of water dripped from her jacket onto the floor he still needed to mop.
“Wow. This place is great. Look at the craftsmanship of these tables and benches.”
“Earl does great work. He runs Red Maple Falls Wood Studios.”
She dragged her finger across a tabletop as she walked toward the bar. “Five Leaf Brewery,” she said. “I like it.”
“Thanks.”
“What does it mean?”
“I have two brothers and three sisters. The five points make the leaf whole.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t be who I am today without them.”
“That’s really sweet.” Realization settled on her face. “Wait. You own this place?”
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the bar, a sense of pride swelling inside of him. “I do.” It was hard not to keep the smile off his face as he looked around at all that he had accomplished.
“Why didn’t you just interview me in the truck then?” Cassie asked, shrugging out of her dripping wet leather jacket and hanging it on a chair. He reached for a rag behind the bar and handed it to her to wipe her jacket dry. She took the rag without hesitation and pulled it down each sleeve then peered back up at him, her eyebrows pulling tight above the bridge of her nose. “Why bring me back here?”
“I wanted to get you out of the rain.”
“Afraid I was going to melt?” she said with a laugh, and it surprised him how much he liked the sound. It was light and sweet, and he had a feeling it wasn’t something she let flow freely too often.
“I was raised to help those in need.”
Her body stiffened, her golden eyes darkened like a storm was brewing within her and not just outside. “I’m not a charity case.”
“Never said you were.”
“I didn’t need your help, you know.”
Her sudden defense mode made him curious. Anybody else would have brushed the comment off, possibly even admired his chivalrous side. Though, he had always been good at reading people, and he could tell that she wasn’t just anybody. He wanted to know who the girl beneath the leather coat and golden eyes really was.
His lip quirked at the corner when he replied, “A simple thank you would suffice.”
Chapter 2
Cassie didn�
�t mean to jump down the guy’s throat. Hell, she was actually grateful to get out of the rain for a little while. She really hadn’t been looking forward to crawling back into her pathetic little tent, soaking wet, to wait for the storm to pass, and she definitely didn’t feel like seeing Marty, the campgrounds caretaker, and telling him about her epic fail of a day.
Being inside was a blessing—something that seemed to be few and far between these days. The fact that he was also offering her an interview for a job, she felt like she should be thanking her lucky stars for finally showing up. She looked up for a moment, wondering if Mason was right. Maybe finding each other when they did was a miracle.
Francine, she thought. If this is your miracle then let me tell you, nice packaging.
Mason had a pretty face, strong and defined with perfectly chiseled features like he was carved out of the finest marble. She imagined most girls would be intimidated by his looks or fawn all over him in a pathetic attempt to get him to notice them. Luckily, or maybe not so lucky for her, with what Dylan put her through, she was immune to the opposite sex. Desire was a risk that wasn’t worth taking.
She took a deep, calming breath, reminding herself that he was just trying to help. Not everybody was like her ex, and she needed to learn to be a little less defensive.
“Thank you,” she finally said, letting the sincere gratitude she felt, fill her tone. “Now about that interview.”
“When can you start?”
“Start?” She stared at Mason. “As soon as possible.”
“We open in a week, but I’d like to get you familiar with the brewing process so you can answer questions comfortably. I’d also like you to familiarize yourself with all of our beers. So can you start now?”
There was no way it would be this easy. Not after everything she went through today. She was expecting to jump through hoops to secure this job, and she was willing to do whatever it took. She was desperate, but she also knew she would be the perfect candidate and was ready to prove her worth. “That’s it? No questions? No background check? No references? Job history.”
The questions she was prepared for, but the other stuff? Not so much. And she silently cursed herself for bringing it up. She was fired from her last job after Dylan threatened one of her customers. It didn’t matter that she was on time every day, picked up extra shifts with no questions asked, and took on more tables than any other person on the wait staff. Because of Dylan they looked at her as a threat to the business, and let her go.
That bastard had taken so much from her already, and she refused to let him take this opportunity away from her, too. She was ready to wow Mason with her knowledge of beer, her many stories as a waitress that shined a bright complimenting light on her, but apparently, it wasn’t necessary.
“You need a job,” Mason said. “And I need someone to tend the bar. I don’t question faith. If you want we can make it a trial run. If after a week, I don’t think you have what it takes, then we go our separate ways no bad blood. What do you say?”
This was almost too good to be true, and as someone who had been burned time and time again, she wasn’t willing to accept so easily. “What’s the catch?”
“There is no catch,” he said without an ounce of emotion on his face, which somehow made him even more attractive. There was a moment of hesitation creeping under her skin; she had a bad habit of falling for men based on looks alone, and if she wasn’t careful, she could see herself falling down that rabbit hole again.
She needed a job, though. She needed this job. If she accepted his offer, he would be her boss, and that practically sealed the deal; no matter how good-looking he was, he was completely off-limits. That alone was enough to convince her that this was a good idea. Besides, this place was her miracle. It had to be.
“If there’s no catch then let’s get started.”
“Perfect.” He disappeared behind the bar then nodded in her direction. “Why don’t you take your shirt off?”
Oh come on! Just when she thought things were looking up the guy turned out to be a pervert. He didn’t even wait two seconds before he showed his true colors.
She wrapped her arms around her waist and stepped back. “I don’t know what you expected to happen, but I am not that kind of girl.”
His eyebrow arched, and that ridiculously charming smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth. He placed a t-shirt with the brewery’s logo on top of the bar. “If you’d let me finish… I was going to say, it’s wet. Put this on instead, and we can toss your shirt in the dryer that I have in the back.”
“Oh,” she said, letting her hands fall back to her sides. “I just…” Heat spread up her neck and across her cheek as embarrassment consumed her. She didn’t mean to expect the worst in people; it was just an unfortunate side effect of what she had gone through. She had been working on it, but she realized now whatever effort she had been putting forth wasn’t enough. Marty was great, and she was comfortable with him, but she needed to venture out more and meet other people or she’d never get over her past. This job would immerse her back into the world, force her to be social, and as someone who once thrived on human interaction, she would be lying if she said she wasn’t excited.
“We cool?” Mason asked.
“Yes. Sorry.” She hurried over to the bar and grabbed the shirt, but as she took the t-shirt, Mason’s hand rested on top of hers. It was big and strong, but his touch was gentle and assuring—something she wasn’t used to, but something she could grow accustomed to if she allowed it.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” he said. “Whatever type of guy you think I am, I’m not.”
A chill ran up her spine. She had nothing against him. How could she? They just met, and he’d been nothing but kind and a real gentleman, but honestly, he could’ve been deemed a saint and she would still have reservations. It was her damn past that she couldn’t seem to leave where it belonged.
She’d been wronged so many times in her life by men who started out just like Mason appeared to be. A man’s charm could hide a slew of demons, and by the time he showed who he really was, it was too late; she was already in too deep.
But for some strange reason, she trusted Mason, and maybe it would bite her in the ass in the future, but looking into those dark green eyes, intense yet kind, she hoped with all her heart that it wouldn’t.
“Okay,” she said then thought to herself, Francine, if I’m not making the right choice please strike lightning down on me now. She waited as if a bolt would crash through the ceiling and strike in front of her. When that didn’t happen she asked, “Where’s the bathroom?”
“Bathroom is over there.” He pointed to a door at the far corner. The wood matched the tables and had a lighter wood plaque with an image of three Storm Troopers, one in pants, one in a dress and one in a wheelchair burned into the grain. He lifted his other hand from hers, and she immediately felt his warmth vanish.
“Thanks.” She took the shirt and went to the bathroom. It wasn’t until she was locked inside that she let out a long-extended breath. She thought for sure that her life was over when she left Main Street only a short time ago, and now it seemed things might actually work out.
She didn’t want to get her hopes up. She’d been there one too many times. It was better to be grateful, but to always expect the other shoe to drop because it usually would. Though, she hoped like hell it wouldn’t. She had a week to prove herself, and she was more determined than ever to show Mason the hardworking, devoted employee she was.
She pulled her soaking wet shirt over her head and dropped it onto the sink. Her eyes caught the ugly jagged scars on her arm and shoulder, the faint one on her chest that probably wasn’t visible to most, but she knew it was there. Even when it fully healed and faded with age, she would always know where it was, remember the feel of the glass cutting into her skin, the blood dripping down her body. She closed her eyes trying not to let the visions of that day consume her.
After a few steady breaths, s
he opened her eyes again. The visions were still there, just like the scars, but at least she was able to push them to the back of her mind for now.
She looked in the mirror again. Many people wore scars as a badge of honor. Cassie however, felt like they were more of a badge of shame, like a big scarlet ‘A’ sewn upon her bosom.
Disgusted at the marks, she yanked the new t-shirt over her head and thrust her arms through the sleeves.
“Much better,” she said to herself, looking straight in the mirror and at her face for the first time since that morning. She nearly stumbled back at the horror that was staring back at her. She was lucky Mason didn’t confuse her for a wild animal.
Her hair was matted to her face, a wind-blown disaster in the back. Her eyes were not only red, but puffy from crying in a moment of pure weakness, and even worse, she had streaks of black makeup running down her cheeks. She looked like she’d stepped out of a horror movie. She was lucky Mason didn’t hit the gas and leave her on the side of the road.
Cassie grabbed a wad of toilet paper and rubbed harshly at the makeup, but all it was doing was leaving angry red blotches. She unzipped her backpack and pulled out her facial wash.
She scrubbed her cheeks and then moved to her hair. The bright red of the shirt actually brought out her natural red highlights, and she imagined when her hair was dry it would be a nice compliment.
Fifteen minutes later, she walked out of the bathroom and spotted Mason behind the bar, a row of tasting glasses in front of him. He had removed his hoodie and was down to a t-shirt that clung nicely to his arms.
“Everything okay? You were in there for a…” His words broke off when his eyes met hers. He stared at her with red hot intensity, causing her to awkwardly shift from one foot to the other. Maybe she was better off looking like a deranged clown. She bit her bottom lip, trying to think of a witty comeback. Something. Anything. Once upon a time she was witty and quick with her words, but years of being silenced took away not only her wit but her confidence.
Crushing on Kate Page 18