by Jill Shalvis
And asked for the sheriff.
She had no answers for him, had nothing to say at all, she just … wanted to see him. Oh, God, that was stupid, she shouldn't have come—
Before she could turn tail and run, he came out of his office, tall, dark and attitude-ridden.
"Cassie." That was all he said. Just her name in that terrifyingly distant tone.
How could he look so damn calm? Her heart was in her throat, her palms damp. She forced a smile and hoped she looked half as cool as he did. "Hi. I just…"
"Yes?"
"Um…" She'd regressed into the village idiot Damn him for not helping her. "I wanted to see how you were."
He lifted his hands and shrugged. "I'm fine."
"Yeah." Well, hadn't this been one big, fat mistake? "Okay, good. You're fine. All righty then, I've got work…" She moved to the door, furious and sad and embarrassed and needing to kick her own butt all at the same time. "Goodbye, Tag."
He watched her stalk to her car in leather pants and a see-through blouse that had made his body quiver hopefully.
"She looks like she's got steam coming out of her fine ears," Annie said conversationally from behind him.
Steam? He hadn't been able to get past the flash of hurt he'd seen in her eyes. The hurt he'd put there.
"Why are all men jackasses whenever they're hurting anyway?" Annie asked. "Is it because they need to share the wealth, do you suppose?"
He was a jackass. Worse. What the hell had he just done, besides let his pride take over? She'd come to see him, something that spoke volumes, and she deserved much more than his cool "I'm fine" crap. All she'd ever asked of him was to give her time. He hadn't bothered to even try.
Well she deserved that time, and his patience, too, and she was going to get it. Even if it killed him. She was worth the wait, and with a little of that patience, she would come around. Because he was worth it, too. Or so he hoped.
"You going after her, Romeo?"
"I have an hour left on my shift."
"And then?"
"If I tell you, are you going to broadcast it on the five o'clock news?"
"Of course."
Tag sighed. "Yeah. I'm going after her."
"Let's hope she'll have you, boss. Let's hope she'll have you."
* * *
Cassie took herself to work as if nothing was the matter. She sat on the front counter preparing the receipts for bookkeeping.
Bookkeeping meaning Kate, of course, who, as the entire accounting department, not only had a head for such things, but was also so completely anal she squeaked when she walked.
Cassie worked steadily, refusing to think about the little visit she'd made on the way over here. "Men suck."
Miss Priss, who sat at Cassie's elbow, occasionally batting an important piece of paper to the floor, looked up with what Cassie would have sworn was complete agreement on her feline face.
Then she batted yet another receipt to the floor. "Stop that." Cassie hopped down to get the piece of paper. "Or I'll put you out and let animal control take you away."
Miss Priss yawned, and Cassie had to laugh, but it faded when suddenly she couldn't imagine her life without the damn fleabag. "So what do you think of New York, cat? Think we should blow this pop stand? I do," she said. "Screw living in fear."
But the scarier truth was … she didn't really want to go. "Hey, you know what? I'm not letting any man chase me from where I want to be. Not ever again. And you know what else?"
Miss Priss blinked.
"This is where I want to be. So … stay with me? Here? Forever? What do you say—we can be old maids together."
Another yawn as the cat craned her head and looked at the phone when it rang.
"Baby!"
Cassie pulled the phone away from her ear to stare at it. "Mom?"
"Who else! How's that town treating you?"
"Decently," Cassie had to admit. "I thought you were on a cruise. How's the boyfriend?"
"He's been upgraded to the husband. We got married on a Greek island today."
"What?" Cassie screeched.
Miss Priss fell off the counter.
Cassie just stared into space. "But … but…"
"I know." Flo sighed. "But it's wonderful. Love is wonderful."
"Mom! How could you? You always told me to get what I could from a man and then walk away!"
"Of course I didn't!"
"Yes, you did. You always told me to get out, to leave them hanging." If she hadn't said that, then what had she said?
Flo sighed on the other end of the line. "I said you get what you can, honey, and walk away if it suits you. If what you're getting is love though, I'd grab it and hold on tight."
Holy shit, how had Cassie gotten it so wrong all these years? "Mom?"
"Yes?"
"I'm happy for you."
"Thanks, hon. I'm happy for me, too. He's wonderful. You'll have to meet him sometime. Hey, our sailboat is ready. Love you!"
Click.
Cassie stared out the window, lost in thought about her mother's revelation until she realized Stacie had pulled up and was headed toward the doors of the shop. She knocked on the glass, waving and smiling at Cassie who, still in shock, unlocked the door for her. "We're not open yet. I've got another half hour to get an hour's worth of work done."
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about." Stacie moved in uninvited, grabbing the sign taped to the glass as she went. Turning it around, she grinned. "You won't be needing this anymore."
Cassie looked at the Help Wanted sign she and Kate had put in the window. "Why not?"
"Because help has arrived." Stacie tore it in two and, tossing the pieces in the air, she clapped her hands. "My mom said she'd baby-sit for me when I'm on shift. Oh, Cassie, please say yes. I want to work here, in the coolest store ever, with you."
Cassie shook her head helplessly, laughing a little in the face of such pure enthusiasm. "But it's a salesclerk position. Have you ever—"
"I've worked at Taco Bell, Dr. Bean's office, Farmer's Insurance and, most recently, the five-and-dime. Plus, I'm a mom, was a wife and therefore also a cook, maid and baby-sitter. Trust me, I can handle this. I can handle anything."
"Can you handle cleaning up the paper you just dumped on the floor?"
Stacie beamed. "Yep."
"Can you then handle sorting the new silk pajamas that just came in?"
"Double yep."
"Okay, then." Cassie nodded. "You're hired."
"Oh, thank you!"
Cassie braced herself but not in time. She was hauled into a bear hug that went on and on and on.
"You're supposed to hug me back," Stacie said in her ear.
"Oh. Yeah." So Cassie lifted her arms and hugged Stacie back.
"This is nice. You being my friend." Stacie pulled back to smile in Cassie's face. "And maybe someday soon, you'll let me be your friend back."
Cassie opened her mouth, then shut it. Because wasn't that the cold, hard truth? "Stacie, I'm—"
"No." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. That was rude of me. You're not ready to open up and I had no right to say—"
"Yes, you did." Cassie had to marvel at the truth that had just smacked her in the face. "You know, before you got here, I was sitting right there on that counter feeling a little bit sorry for myself. Thinking poor me, I actually like it here, I actually like that stupid cat, I like you, I like this life. Now, it just sounds silly. It's okay to like what I've found here."
Stacie's smile was slow and genuine. "So you like me back?"
Cassie smiled back and felt her heart warm. "Yeah."
"Can I have a raise?"
"Aren't you a riot?"
"I do try. You have some forms for me? I want to make this official."
Cassie moved toward the back office. "I'll have to dig for them. Might take me a few. Just start over there with those boxes on the floor by the second shelving unit. Don't open the front door yet."
"Got it."
/>
Cassie, followed by Miss Priss, walked down the hallway past two disastrous closets she and Kate hadn't gotten to yet, past the bathroom, to the small cubicle they'd claimed as their office. With a sigh she divided a look between Kate's spotless desk to her own cluttered, dusty, overloaded one.
Miss Priss leapt up to Cassie's and plopped her big, fat body down on a pile. Not wanting to admit how much that silly little gesture meant, she said, "One of these days I'm going to get myself organized."
"Really? Will you return my calls and letters then?" came a sardonic male voice she instantly recognized for the shyer it put down her spine.
Pete had found her.
* * *
Chapter 14
«^»
Cassie turned to see Pete sprawled in a chair against the wall, looking tall, California-blond and cold as ice. He had her water bottle from her desk in his hand, which he raised in a silent toast. "Well, look at who the cat dragged in," he said. He purposely lifted the water to his lips and, smiling at the lip gloss outline of a mouth on the rim—obviously hers—he put his mouth to that exact spot.
Her heart was beating so hard she was certain Pete could see it, but she smiled and backed into her desk, reaching behind her, patting, searching for the steel, pointed letter opener she knew she had there somewhere.
Instead of cold steel in her fingers, she felt Miss Priss butt her head into her palm.
Useless cat!
Slowly, Pete came to his feet, standing between her and the door. "I still can't believe you hurt me the way you did, tossing our friendship out the window. After all we meant to each other."
"Yeah, being stalked tends to make me a terribly disloyal friend." Okay so she couldn't get to the door, but she could scream.
And yet that would bring Stacie running, she was certain of it. And what if Pete hurt her? Cassie would never be able to live with that, being the cause of something happening to her new and very wonderful friend.
And they were friends, the marvel of that could wash over her even now, strengthen her. She was more than just that woman here in Pleasantville. She had people around her who cared, making her and this place a unit. She had Kate; she'd always have Kate. And now she had Stacie, too.
And Tag. Even though she'd hurt him, he cared about her, deeply. She took strength from that, felt herself stand tall.
She needed that extra strength because Pete took a step toward her. "How did you get in?"
"Back door. It was locked, but ajar. Not smart, Cassie."
Damn, she'd done it again with the stupid door.
"I know you told the police I was stalking you," he said. "That nearly killed me, Cassie. I can't show my face in my own hometown. My career is ruined. You did that to me, and I didn't deserve it." With a vicious swipe, he reached out and cleared the credenza of all the stock, boxes and papers carefully stacked there.
In spite of herself, Cassie flinched. "The police will come. They'll take you back to New York and prosecute you."
"Not that I want to disagree with you, but you're wrong. You're alone here. The store is closed and locked. In fact…" He kicked a stack of boxes and sent them flying before looking back into her face with a definite glee. "Scream. Scream all you want. No one will hear you, and even if they did, no one will care. Not about you."
He couldn't know that was her secret weakness. That no one cared. But people did, she knew that now, and managed a smile. "You're the wrong one, Pete."
"Here's how this is going to work. You're going to come back with me. Tell the police you were mistaken. I won't take no for an answer, Cassie." He moved toward her and she sidestepped around the desk, putting herself behind it.
"I'm not going back to New York." She wasn't, she knew that now. Oh, she'd go back to model, as long as they'd have her, but this would be her home base. Pleasantville. Bare Essentials. It's what she wanted with all her heart, and if she wasn't about to have the fight of her life, she would have reveled in the sudden epiphany.
Damn it, where was the letter opener? She couldn't see it anywhere, but there was King-Size Kong, the latest, hottest, eighteen-inch-long, five-inch-thick dildo on the market. Kate had ordered it for fun, and hadn't quite yet decided on how to display it. The thing was made of rubber and weighed more than a bowling ball. It even had batteries in it, because Cassie had put them in there to tease Kate about how to stay busy during late-night accounting sessions.
"Are you listening, Cassie?" Like a flash of lightning, Pete leaned across the desk and latched onto her wrist.
Tug-of-warring did no good; the guy was as strong as an ox. And because he was looking at her with a sick hopefulness that said he wanted her to try to fight him, she forced herself to remain calm. "Let go of me."
"I'm not going to ever let go of you again." He lifted his other hand, whether to hit her or to grab her and haul her across the desk she'd never know, because Miss Priss took one look at him towering over her and, with a hiss, swiped him right across the face.
With a howl, Pete dropped to his knees. "My face, my face!"
Cassie hefted the heavy dildo and brought it down on Pete's head.
Just as he crashed to the floor, Tag slammed into the office, looking larger than life and battle ready with his gun out. He took one look at Cassie wielding her weapon, at Pete prone on the floor, and shook his head. "Damn, Cassie."
"Did I kill him?" She came closer, the dildo resting on her shoulder like a baseball bat, ready for another swing.
But he didn't twitch.
"Pete?" She kicked him gingerly in the leg with her toe, and would have bent over him to check for a pulse but Tag stopped her. He'd holstered his gun and had put his hands on her shoulders, making her look at him. "Jesus. I came to talk to you, and Stacie told me she'd heard banging back here and— Are you hurt?"
"Of course not."
Gently he gave her a little shake. "Stop it. You don't have to always be so tough. It's okay to lean on someone once in awhile, damn it."
"You don't want me to lean on you."
"Is that what you think?" His voice had gone a little hoarse as he ran his hands down her arms, linking their fingers. "That I don't want you to lean on me?"
She closed her eyes, a little overcome by all the emotions she'd allowed to swamp her lately—as in the past twenty minutes.
"Cassie?"
"No," she whispered. "I know what you want."
"And that is?"
"Me." That still could make her tremble in amazement and she opened her eyes. "You want me. Not just sex, you want all of me. I'm … getting used to that."
"You are?"
Oh, the things in his voice—the gruff yearning, the hope, the wariness. "Tag, this morning, I realized some things. I realized—"
Pete groaned and Tag backed up a step to put his foot in the middle of his back. "Go on," he said to Cassie.
She looked down at Pete. "Shouldn't you—"
"Tell me."
But Stacie poked her head through the open office door. "I hope it's okay that I let Tag in. I heard the noise and got worried. You wouldn't believe the crowd out here, Cassie. Sheriff, the backup just pulled up outside. I think we should—"
"Cassie?" Kate pushed Stacie aside. "Oh, my God," she whispered, looking at Pete sprawled on the floor, at Tag who was holding him there with a foot in the small of his back. "Oh, my God."
"You already said that," Cassie said.
Two more uniformed officers pushed their way through, followed by Diane and Will and at least half the population of Pleasantville, all of whom tried to fit into the doorway to see what the commotion was all about.
Cassie looked at them and felt none of her usual resentment and anger. They weren't there to see her fail, or to make fun of her behind her back. They were there because they cared, and suddenly she grinned.
"What's so funny?" Kate stepped over Pete. "He could have killed you."
"Nah. I was armed." She lifted the ten-pound dildo from her shoulder and laughed.<
br />
Tag frowned and exchanged a worried look with Kate. "Cassie, sweetheart, I think maybe you should sit down." He stepped back from Pete and let one of the deputies haul him out of the office. "Come on." He reached for her, but she danced away, far too full of joy to be contained. "Cassie."
Kate said her name then, too, and so did Stacie, but she just whirled around in a circle until she was dizzy, finally collapsing … right in Tag's arms, as he reached out with an oath to catch her.
"Hey, look at that," she said, gripping his shirt, putting her face close to his. "Just where I wanted to be."
His arms tightened on her. "I think this is delayed shock. Let's sit down, okay? And—"
"Nope, not delayed shock." She cupped his face, and right there in front of everyone in her entire world, she sighed. "It's called an epiphany, Tag. I came here to get away, but I also came for revenge. It wasn't going to be pretty. But the oddest thing happened."
"What?" he whispered.
"You," she whispered back. "And Kate. And Stacie. And everyone else. I came for revenge but got something even better. I got you." She raised her voice so everyone could hear. "I'm not going back to New York. I'm going to stay."
Kate grinned. "Yes!"
"Someone's got to keep things hopping." Cassie kept her eyes on Tag, who was watching her very carefully, very intently.
"How do you intend to keep things hopping?" he asked softly. "More stalkings? Another interesting shop? More tickets?"
"Nope." She swallowed, because this is where it got a little risky. Not that she wasn't above risk, but this was the mother of all risks. "I'm going to marry the sheriff."
Stacie gaped, then laughed.
Kate whooped.
Tag went utterly, utterly still. "You're going to marry me."
"Yep." She held her breath. "Because I'm assuming you still love me."
"My love wasn't the love in question," he pointed out, now holding her with a death grip, as if he was afraid she'd vanish.
"No, it wasn't, was it?" She laughed, then kissed him. "But now, no one's love is in question." She bit her lip. "Right?"
"Is that your way of asking if I still love you?"
"A Tremaine would never ask such a thing." "Hmm." Tag lifted a doubtful brow, then ruined it by shaking his head, cupping her face and kissing her long and hot and wet. Coming up for air, he put his forehead to hers. "I do love you. I always will."