by C. L. Parker
It was time for me to admit defeat, stop fighting her perceived solution, and just do things her way as a willing participant. That was the conclusion I’d drawn by the time my alarm clock had gone off and I’d rolled over to find her side of the bed empty once more.
With a weighted sigh, I pulled the covers back and stood, clad in nothing but pajama bottoms, which was more than I normally ever wore to bed. Of course I’d done that out of respect to Cassidy. I was sure the last thing she’d want to wake to was me, now a virtual stranger, naked and sporting a woody next to her. Especially not after what had happened between us the night before.
I knew where she’d be, so I made the short walk through the living area and stopped, looking down at my bare feet as I stood before the door to Abe’s room. Not entirely sure what I should do, I raised a knuckle to knock, then decided that was silly. This was my son’s bedroom, in my home, and my woman was on the other side of that door.
So I quietly cracked it open and stepped inside, not at all surprised to find Cassidy curled up in Abe’s bed while snuggling his favorite Superman blanket, which matched the superhero décor of the rest of his room. For whatever reason, the sight was like being slapped in the face with a cold, dead fish.
The only two people who believed me to be a superhero, who wished with all their might for me to live up to the image, had lost faith in me. Hell, I had lost faith in myself.
How could I let them down? And more to the point, how was I going to find a way around my kryptonite when the kryptonite was me? Me and my pride. Me and my ambitions. Me and my inability to see the fucked-up choices I was making before said choices had been made.
Creeping across the room, careful not to make a sound, I looked down at my Cassidy and smiled when I saw the tiniest bit of drool at the corner of her full, pink mouth. Her hair was a mess of tangles the color of a Southern Californian sunset, and her long lashes rested gently upon flawless ivory skin, tinged a natural flush of color at the cheeks. Her breasts were fuller, her hips more rounded, her belly a little pooched, and her ass supple rather than toned. No doubt she saw all those physical characteristics as flaws. But not me. I saw her as a stunning woman made even more magnificent by the effects of motherhood.
I’d never want another as much as I wanted her.
Brushing a strand of hair away from her face, I grinned when her forehead crinkled and her lips did that pouty thing that reminded me so much of Abe. God, there was so much of her in him. His willfulness, his determination, his ability to always see the positive in every situation—that was all Cassidy.
Peering down at her I wondered if she realized she was the superhero. Not me.
But I could be her sidekick. Which meant I needed to follow her lead while sharing the load. And I knew just where to start.
Leaving Cassidy undisturbed, I backed out of Abe’s room and made my way back to our bedroom, where my cellphone was charging. Then I went over to the pants I’d worn the day before and pulled the little black card out of the back pocket where I’d tucked it away with every intention of discarding it later. Dialing the number, I paced as the line began to ring. I was shocked when a voice answered on the other end of the line. Mostly because it was before seven o’clock in the morning, and I’d only thought to leave a message for a return call.
“Hello, is anyone there?” the voice—a distinctly rich and smooth female voice, accented—asked when I didn’t respond to her initial greeting.
“I…I’m sorry, I must have dialed the wrong number.” Surely I had. There was no rambling of the customary office name and “How may I help/direct your call?” that I’d expect from a receptionist of a business.
But before I could disconnect the line, the woman on the other end said, “No one ever dials this number by mistake, darling. You are looking for Katya?”
“Uh, yes. Dr. Katya Minkov,” I told her. “I was given this number by a colleague of hers, and—”
“Not hers, yours,” she interrupted.
“Excuse me?”
“I am Katya. And you are Shaw Matthews, are you not?”
Holy shit. How could she possibly know that? Duh. Caller ID.
“Jeremy, my precious secret agent, has already phoned ahead with his recommendation for you and your lover. I will meet with you tonight at eight P.M., sharp.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I said, anticipating an abrupt dial tone. “I don’t know if we can do that.”
Eight o’clock? Who keeps those kinds of office hours? Plus, that was Abe’s bedtime, and if the way Cassidy was hugging his blanket had been any indication, I highly doubted she’d want to be separated from him for another night.
“Come, don’t come. Makes no difference to me. The opportunity will not be presented again.” She quickly recited an address, and I had to scramble to find a pen to jot it down on the back of the card, hoping I’d gotten it right before the line went dead.
I pulled back the phone and looked at it as if there were going to be some kind of explanation for my confusing encounter on the screen. What a very weird way to start the day, and I had a feeling that phone call would not be the weirdest thing about Dr. Katya Minkov.
After I’d showered and dressed—hurriedly, since I was already running late for work—I went out to the main room and found Cassidy sitting at the bar counter with a cup of coffee and bowl of Apple Jacks, Abe’s favorite, in front of her. She’d pulled her tangled hair into a haphazard ponytail and draped a robe over her boxer shorts and cami pajamas. Her shoulders were slumped and her socked feet propped up on the rungs of the stool as she pushed the little green and orange circles through the milk in a lazy manner. I couldn’t tell if she was still half asleep or maybe just didn’t know what to do with herself since Abe wasn’t running around and using our living room furniture as a jungle gym while she begged him to sit and eat his breakfast. Either way, she simply looked…sad and lonely.
But I had news that would cheer her up, and even though I didn’t have the time to, I went to the cabinet and got a bowl, determined that she wouldn’t eat alone.
“Good morning,” I said, pouring my own cereal.
Cassidy looked at me, then to the clock on the wall, and back to me again, clearly confused. “Um, good morning. You’re not working today?”
Putting the milk back into the refrigerator, I closed the door and looked down at myself and the business attire I wore every day. Arching a brow at the clear indication, I gave her an amused grin. “Yep,” I said, and then took the seat on the stool next to her.
“But you’re going to be late.” Her statement sounded more like a question.
“Yep,” I repeated. “I think they can survive for a little bit without me while I have breakfast with my woman.”
“Oh. Okay.” She was clearly still confused, but resumed eating all the same.
We ate in silence for a time, neither of us quite sure what to say. I supposed it had been longer than I’d thought since it had just been the two of us alone like this. Maybe Abe had always filled the quiet before.
“So I made an appointment with Dr. Minkov this morning,” I told her, hoping to ease the awkwardness. “Or at least I think I made an appointment.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I didn’t so much schedule an appointment as I was issued a directive that we should show up at eight o’clock tonight or not at all.”
“What?”
“Weird, right? Still,” I shrugged, “it’s done.”
“But what about Abe? I don’t like not having him here.”
“I know. Me neither. But like I said, it has to be tonight or not at all.”
Cassidy sighed. “This is too much, isn’t it? Maybe we just shouldn’t go.”
“What are you talking about? I want to go!”
“Really?”
“Yeah! Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?” My hand found her knee and I gave her a playful nudge. “I think it’s going to be a lot of fun.”
She drew her h
ead back, suspicious. “You do?”
“Are you kidding me? Sex,” I told her. “Prescribed sex, even. How could that not be fun?” I laughed, hoping she would, too.
She didn’t, but she did smile. “I have no idea what to expect, to be honest, but if you’re so gung ho about it, I guess we should at least give it a try.”
“That’s the spirit!” I said, giving her knee a squeeze before finishing off my cereal.
“So what should we do about Abe, then?”
I shrugged, mostly because Cassidy was usually the one who took care of that sort of thing. That was my bad. Yet another example of the ways I’d failed at being a father. “Well, obviously he can’t go with us. Do you think maybe Quinn will keep him again?”
Cassidy shook her head. “I’m sure he and Denver don’t want to play house two nights in a row, though they’d never say it. They love spending time with him and all, but they also like sending him back home.” She nibbled her lip in contemplation as she stirred her cereal. “Oh, I know! Chaz and Demi have wanted some time with him. I’ll call them.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said, rinsing my bowl and putting it in the sink. “Sorry, but I’ve gotta run. Meet you at Monkey’s for dinner before we head out to our next shrink?”
At the slight narrowing of her eyes, I laughed. “Kidding, kidding! I’ll see you later.” Kissing the top of her head, I grabbed my briefcase and headed for the door.
“Shaw?”
I pulled up short and turned on my heel to face her. “Yeah?”
Cassidy set her spoon down and pushed the bowl away. “Why are you suddenly willing to do all of this? I mean, I’m glad”—her brow creased—“but why?”
I should’ve expected her suspicion, and I didn’t blame her for asking about my intentions. I’d been tugging pretty damn hard in the opposite direction on this whole therapist thing, and I hadn’t exactly been forthright about my feelings other than to tell her all the negatives. Call it a man thing or whatever, but it was time I came clean, time for me to show her a side of Shaw Matthews she rarely got a glimpse of, others not at all. “Because I can’t be anywhere without you, either, Cassidy. Nor do I want to. So I’m all in. Just don’t…don’t give up on me.”
Cassidy looked contemplative but still nodded her acceptance of my answer, even though I could tell she was trying to make sense of my one-eighty. I set my briefcase down by the door and crossed the space between us. Cassidy twisted around on her stool toward me, eyes wide as she drew back, not quite sure what I was about to do.
The backs of my fingers caressed her cheek down to her chin and then I swept my thumb over her worried lip. Cassidy closed her eyes and slowly exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Leaning down, I pressed my lips to hers with a firm yet gentle kiss. After a moment, she kissed me back, her mouth pliant and giving. I could taste the faint sugary sweetness from the cereal she’d just had, and I licked at her bottom lip for more of it. My tongue swept inside her mouth, coaxing hers into submission so I could show her. Show her that this was where I wanted to be, that she was the only woman I’d ever need, that I might not know how to convey my feelings for her sometimes, but that they were there and they were real.
We were breathing for each other by the time I broke the kiss, my forehead resting against hers as I tried to get my thoughts in line because the woman had a way of making me disoriented just from a single kiss.
Cassidy’s eyes were still closed, almost as if she were saying a silent prayer, though I’d never known her to be a particularly religious person. I could feel the warmth of her breath as it fanned out against my lips, my cheeks, cooling as it spread over my neck. I saw it so clearly then, the resemblance of that one action, so intimate and vital, to our relationship. Like a breath, we were warm, red-hot, the closer to each other we remained, but if we let the distance come between us…that was when the coldness crept in.
I wasn’t going to let that happen.
Cupping her face in both hands, I told her, “We’re going to get through this. I need you to know we will, Cassidy, because I’m going to do the right thing by you. I’m not saying I’ll be perfect along the way or that some asshole part of me won’t come out when I get frustrated, but I’m going to try. Okay?”
Her nod was barely perceptible, but I felt it against my forehead.
Leaving the cocoon of our embrace, I pulled back and looked down at her. Cassidy’s eyes were open but cast down toward her lap, where she was fidgeting with her fingers.
“Hey,” I said, and then waited for her to look up. She did, orbs the color of sprouting tufts of grass in the spring peering back at me with so much hope. “I love you.”
Her resulting grin was about as unexpected, yet finally genuine, as could be. Though I knew it didn’t seem like a very masculine response, my heart fluttered in my chest and then filled with that “feel good” sort of warmth when her voice, ever so soft and sweet, said, “I love you, too.”
That morning when I left our home to face the drudging day ahead, I did it with a little extra pep in my step. Even if I was anxious as hell about the mysterious appointment with our sex therapist.
Cassidy
Today had been one of the better days I’d had over the last couple of years. Thanks in large part to Shaw’s tiniest bit of submission this morning. Abe and I spent the day together, doing everything he wanted to do and eating whatever junk food his little heart desired. I might have been overcompensating a bit because of my guilt over sending him off again to spend the night somewhere other than his own bed.
Though I felt like the crappiest mother of all time, my Abey Baby was thrilled to go see his uncle Chaz and aunt Demi. In fact, he’d jumped up and down clapping when Demi had asked him if he wanted to play “Wrestlemania” again. Apparently, Demi and Abe team up against Chaz, who lets Abe win until Uncle Chaz deploys the tickle-claw maneuver, and then Abe tags Demi in. Abe laughed and said it was “big fun” to see Aunt Demi beat up Uncle Chaz. Since Demi was a self-defense instructor, I knew her winning had nothing to do with Chaz letting her. I almost felt sorry for Chaz, to be honest. More so when he groaned and cupped his balls.
Shaw was even on time for dinner at Monkey’s. Sasha and Landon had joined us and I’d actually felt like an adult for once. We’d laughed and done the catching-up thing until Shaw looked down at his watch and cleared his throat to get my attention, tapping on the face of the thing to tell me we needed to get going or we’d be late. Neither of us wanted that since this whole ordeal felt like we were agents going undercover to expose some deeply concealed secret society of sexaholics plotting to take over the world or whatever.
But when we got to the address Dr. Minkov had given to Shaw, it quickly became clear that my amusing wonderings might not have been far off the mark.
“Are you sure this is the right address?” I leaned forward in my seat as if the windshield would behave as a pair of glasses and allow me to see things more clearly.
I saw things clearly enough, all right. We were in an empty lot, the painted lines of the parking spaces on the cracked asphalt faded, obviously not having been maintained for quite some time. Thanks to the illumination of Shaw’s headlights, I could see there was one building, giant and looming and dark—an abandoned industrial warehouse, complete with broken windows, rain-rusted stains down the corrugated aluminum siding, and graffiti spray painted on every surface.
Shaw checked and double-checked the address against his GPS. “This is what I wrote down. She said it so fast, I must have gotten it wrong.”
If I hadn’t known beyond a shadow of a doubt that Shaw had been genuine when he’d said he was all in on this therapy thing, I would’ve thought he’d gotten the address wrong on purpose. Further proving my belief that “it had been an accident” was his explanation for the intentional error. He raked his fingers through his hair, his jaw ticking and leg bouncing. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
I knew he really was. Putting a hand on his arm, I took a de
ep breath. “It’s okay.” I shrugged and forced a smile. “Guess it wasn’t meant to be. Let’s just go get Abe and head home.”
With another curse at himself, Shaw put the car in reverse and started to back out, only to have to stomp on the brake. I jerked forward, caught by the seatbelt and pushed back into an upright position.
“What the hell?” Shaw shouted, looking into the rearview mirror. I turned the top half of my body to see what the holdup was and saw a pair of headlights from another car getting closer and closer until the thing was practically on top of our rear bumper. Shoving the gear into park, Shaw cut the engine and ripped off his seatbelt as he flung open the door.
“Shaw, don’t!” I tugged on his arm, trying to make him stay put, but he yanked away. Dark parking lot, plus abandoned building, plus strange vehicle with high-beam lights equaled all kinds of Dateline murder mystery.
“I’m just going to see what this asshole’s problem is. I’ll be okay,” he told me. Not at all convincingly, I might add.
My heart was racing with fear. This was the industrial district of San Diego, California, for Christ’s sake. Abandoned warehouses were ideal for drug deals and murders. I gasped, suddenly thinking about Abe being orphaned after both of his parents were killed in cold blood, if our bodies were ever found. “Shaw, get back in the car! They could have a gun!”
He pfft’d me. Actually drew his head back and looked at me like I was being overly dramatic with a “Pfft! They don’t have a gun. It’s probably a couple of teenagers coming here to make out. Stop worrying. I’m just going to scare them a little and then I’ll be back.”
Really, it wasn’t necessary to even do that much. But I stayed in the car, watching him through the back window the whole time. Not that I could see much with the headlights glaring like that. A minute or two passed, though it seemed like way more, before Shaw came back, opening the door and bending down to poke his head inside.