A Man You Can Trust

by Jo McNally

  “So,” he said, “it wasn’t a dream.”

  Cassie stretched like a cat, turned on her side to face him and returned his smile. “Felt pretty dreamy to me.”

  He reached out and brushed Cassie’s hair behind her ear. “There’s only one problem. It left me wanting more.”

  “Really? I seem to have the same problem...”

  Cassie leaned forward and kissed him, sliding her arm around his neck. Without saying another word, they made love again. But this time, it was less frantic, less desperate. They took things slow and easy. There was no crying out of names, only sighs and whispers and soft moans as they caressed each other, exploring each other’s bodies with their fingers and lips. Eventually they brought each other to a sweet and tender release that left them both trembling. Cassie fell asleep clasped tightly in Nick’s embrace, and she felt more secure and protected than she’d ever felt in her life.

  It couldn’t last, of course. She’d kept secrets from him. Big ones. They were just two grown-ups scratching an itch and all that.

  But Cassie couldn’t shake the illogical but powerful conviction that here, in Nick’s arms, was exactly where she belonged.

  Chapter Twelve

  Nick slipped out of bed shortly after dawn. Cassie turned and murmured something unintelligible, then settled back to sleep. He watched her for a moment, then walked away. He needed to clear his head.

  He thought maybe last night would be a resolution of their “chemistry” issue. But he’d been a fool to think one night with Cassie would ever be enough. He’d seen enough addicts on the street to know that for some, all it took was one time—one hit—and they were hooked. That’s how he felt. Just one night with Cassie, and he was toast. Her kiss had ruined him for all other kisses, and making love with her had destroyed him for all other women.

  What did it mean, though? Was there any chance in hell of them having a relationship that wouldn’t make a mess of both their work life and their friendship? Was she even interested in a relationship? Or was last night enough for her? Maybe she’d explored their chemistry and found it wanting. Would that be a good thing? Or would it make the ache he felt in his chest just that much worse?

  He took his cup from the coffee maker and gulped half of it, anxious to clear the fog in his head. He glanced around for his phone, then remembered he’d taken it out of his pocket before diving in the lake last night. Hopefully it was still in the kayak. He headed outside, where a gentle mist rolled across the smooth surface of the water.

  The phone screen was lit up with messages, and something else was buzzing in the boat. Cassie’s purse was still there, and her phone was going off, too. Had something happened at the resort? His phone chimed with an incoming call. Blake Randall. He frowned. Something was happening, that’s for sure. Blake wouldn’t call him this early on a Saturday morning otherwise.

  “Blake? What’s up?”

  “I don’t know, man. You tell me.”

  “I...what?”

  Blake let out a sigh. “Just tell me if Cassie’s with you, wherever you are.”

  “I... I’m home.” Nick stalled. “Why are you asking about Cassie?”

  “Julie said you were giving Cassie a ride home. But she’s not home. Are you saying she’s not with you?” Blake’s tone sharpened with concern, and Nick had to come clean.

  “She’s here.”

  “Thank Christ.” Blake’s voice grew faint as he spoke away from the phone. “She’s okay. She’s with Nick.” Amanda’s voice was muffled in the background. Blake came back on the phone. “Did something happen? My wife’s been texting and calling her all damn night. She was getting ready to call Dan Adams and report her missing. Was she scared to go home or something? She’s not running, is she?”

  “Running? Running where?” Nick grabbed Cassie’s purse and headed back into the house, trying his best to catch up with this conversation.

  “From Don. The asshole who almost killed her a couple years ago. Damn. She hasn’t told you that yet, has she?” Blake paused. “Wait. If she wasn’t scared to go home, then why is she at...?” Another pause. “Aw, hell. Are you two a thing now?”

  Amanda’s voice was much louder now. “I knew it!”

  Blake shushed her. “So she’s at your place because why exactly?”

  Nick wasn’t used to being grilled by his employer about whom he did or didn’t sleep with.

  “No offense, Blake, but I don’t see how that’s your concern. I’m sorry you two were worried, but Cassie’s safely asleep and this won’t affect our job performance on Monday.”

  Blake digested that for a minute, then agreed. “Fair enough, but I call BS on the job bit. It’ll affect you at work, one way or the other.” Amusement crept into his voice. “Just do your best to keep things cool, and don’t hurt that woman or you’ll have to deal with my wife and her cousins. Trust me when I say that won’t be pretty.”

  “O-kay.” This was one of those small-town things he’d have to get used to. People knew your business and took sides. In LA, they were too busy to care. Blake’s voice dropped.

  “Nick, now that my wife is out of the room, let me say one more thing. Cassie and Amanda have some stuff in common from their pasts, and you need to know about it before you go much further. If you’re serious about her, you need to talk. If you’re not serious about her, well... You’re an idiot. She’s a hell of a woman.”

  “Yeah. I know. Thanks.”

  After the call, Nick sat on the sofa and watched the lake wake up with Saturday action. At this hour, it was primarily local fishermen, drifting or trolling with their lines in the water, occasionally pulling in a fish. A blue heron strolled calmly along the shoreline, watching for minnows.

  So Cassie had secrets. As a former cop, it bugged Nick that he didn’t know that. Of course, he knew she’d been assaulted in a parking garage, and the incident made her hypervigilant. Maybe that’s all Blake had been referring to. But Nick suspected there was a lot more to it than that. It was something Amanda had in common with her, but that information wasn’t helpful, since Nick didn’t know Amanda’s past. Had she been a victim of some crime, too? Was everyone at the resort hiding some dark past, or was it simply overblown small-town drama?

  “Good morning.” He turned to see Cassie standing near the kitchen. She’d pulled on the sweatshirt he’d given her last night, and it fell off one shoulder to reveal a swath of white skin he suddenly hungered for. Secrets or not, he wanted her again.

  “Good morning.” He stood and headed into the kitchen to start breakfast. Keeping busy would settle his mind and make the situation less awkward. “Scrambled eggs and sausage okay?”

  “Um, sure. Or I could go...”

  “Do you want to go?”

  She stared at the floor and shrugged. Insecure Cassie had returned. “I’ll do whatever you prefer. I don’t want to be in your way.”

  He’d learned that a blunt approach tended to snap Cassie out of this timid persona that always made him angry. Angry for her, not with her.

  “What I’d prefer is you naked on the sofa while I cook, so I can enjoy the best view in town.”

  Her mouth dropped open and her face colored. Then she laughed, and he saw the spark of confidence return to her eyes.

  “And what about my view? What would I get out of this deal?”

  “I don’t think nudity and frying pans go together very well, so you’ll have to wait for your special view.”

  “Yeah, well—so will you. I’m going to go freshen up and see if my dress is salvageable. I left it hanging in the bathroom. I don’t suppose you have any tea?”

  “I think there’s a box in the cupboard on the end.”

  Cassie found the green box and smiled. “English Breakfast. My favorite.”

  “I don’t have a teapot.”

  “Don’t need one. I’ll run water thr
ough the coffee maker without putting a pod in there. That’s how I do it at the office.” She dropped the tea bag into a mug, pressing the button with a grin. “I’m very resourceful.”

  The conversation was neutral. Normal, even. They were just a couple of adults, standing in the kitchen together. He had no shirt. She had no pants. Making breakfast. It was nice.

  A sizzle from the stove brought his attention back to cooking, and by the time he looked up again, she was gone. She returned as he was plating the food, wearing a wrinkled, but dry, dark yellow dress. Her hair was pulled back into her usual ponytail. Her skin was radiant. Nick frowned. Radiant? Since when did he start using words like that? She took her plate to the small table by the windows. Since he met a woman like Cassandra.

  They were almost done eating breakfast before he thought to tell her that Blake had called.

  “Oh, God, I was supposed to text Amanda last night! I completely forgot. Where’s my purse?” She jumped up from the table.

  “Relax. She knows you’re here and you’re okay.” He carried the plates and utensils to the kitchen, nodding at her purse as he passed it.

  “Amanda knows I’m here? Oh, no. That means they all know...”

  “They?”

  “The cousins. Amanda, Nora and Mel are basically one unit. What one knows, they all know.” She groaned. “I hope Nora didn’t tell Aunt Cathy...” She scrolled through her phone, then hurriedly typed a message. It chirped a minute later, and her shoulders relaxed. “Amanda said Cathy doesn’t know and she’s off today anyway. She also said I have lots of ’splaining to do. Tomorrow’s coffee meeting should be fun.”

  “Coffee meeting?” This was the problem with having a casual breakfast conversation with someone you didn’t know all that well. There were too many blanks to fill in. Which reminded him that he had a few blanks he needed filled in sooner rather than later.

  “We have coffee early on Sunday at Nora’s café, before the after-church crowd starts filling up the place. Amanda insisted I join them, because she thinks I need friends.” She frowned, and he had a feeling she’d said more than she’d intended.

  “You don’t have friends?” Nick finished cleaning the cooking pans and put them away. Cassie shrugged, looking everywhere but at him. “Cass?”

  “Well...I’m fairly new to town, and it’s not always easy to make new friends. Especially when you’re a homebody like me.”

  “What about your friends in Milwaukee?”

  She stiffened. “There weren’t many. Not any that lasted past me leaving town.” She gave him a bright, tense smile. “Like I said, I’m a homebody. Give me tea and a book and I’m happy.”

  “But you had a job there. Didn’t you make friends at work?”

  Nick knew how to read body language, and hers was screaming that she didn’t want to have this conversation. He moved closer and put his hands on her shoulders, tipping her chin up with his thumbs.

  “Hey, it’s me. The guy you had wild-and-crazy sex with last night.” The corner of her mouth twitched toward a smile, but her eyes were clouded. He bent over and kissed her.

  It was supposed to be a quick kiss to jolt her into trusting him, but as soon as his lips touched hers, he forgot all about his motivation. He wanted more. His hands slipped behind her head and he kissed her hard and long. And damn if she didn’t kiss him right back, matching him beat for beat. Her fingers buried in his hair, and she pressed her hips against him, creating an instant response. He pushed her against the wall and dropped his hands to cup her behind and hold her against his now-aching body. She hooked a leg around his, as if afraid he’d move away. Not a snowball’s chance in hell. He lifted her up and slipped his hand under her dress, quickly moving past the lacy underwear he encountered.

  She moaned his name, long and slow and rough, and he slid his mouth down her neck to nip at her throat, all the while moving his fingers inside her. She was grinding against him, and he was ready to lose his mind. It was broad daylight. They’d just had breakfast. He was supposed to be taking her home because everyone was so concerned about them being together. It was a mistake to keep this going. They worked together. They had baggage. She was keeping secrets. The back of her head hit the wall with a thud as she arched her body against him. That cold-shower list of excuses didn’t work anymore. He knew what sex with her was like now, and when she shuddered in his arms and cried out as she came for him, he knew where they were going to end up.

  “I want you. In my bed. Right now.”

  She dropped her head to his shoulder and nodded against him. It was all he needed. He scooped her into his arms and carried her down the hall. There was a flurry of clothing hitting the floor. He was so desperate to be inside her that he almost forgot protection. She laughed when he swore at the foil package, which didn’t open anywhere near as fast as he needed it to. And finally, finally, they were connected and moving as one. It was fast and hard and hot and they both made the same strangled sound of ecstasy when they reached their goal together. He stayed over her, unable to look away from the sight of her hair splayed out on the mattress beneath her like a flame.

  She pinched his side. “You gonna stay there all day?”

  He bent down and kissed her. “Would you mind if I did?”

  Her smile lost some of its light. “Real life is going to catch up with us sooner or later.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, this was a very nice but unexpected detour on our morning.” He reluctantly left her softness and slid off the bed. “I’m going to shower, then I’ll take you home. After we talk about what comes next.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  What comes next...

  Cassie tried to sort out her poor, abused gold dress for the second time that morning, but it was hopeless. Somehow, it had been torn both near the neckline and under one arm. She couldn’t blame Nick, because he hadn’t undressed her. No, that was her, in a frenzy to get naked, who had torn the most expensive dress she owned. It was bad enough she’d be doing the walk of shame to her apartment in broad daylight, but to do it in a rumpled, water-stained and torn dress? With hopeless bed hair, kiss-swollen lips and a general haze of good-sex vibes in her eyes? Ugh. If the cousins saw her like this, she’d never hear the end of it.

  ...what comes next...

  She glanced at the bedroom window. She could probably escape the upcoming conversation by climbing through it, but she had no idea how to get home from here. Like it or not, she was going to have to talk about “what comes next” with Nick. Sex last night was beyond her dreams. She’d thought she was going to have a night with a guy who kissed her senseless, and then she’d be able to move on. Easy-peasy. Sure, she’d expected it to be good. But being in bed—or against a wall—with Nick was more than good. It was...transformative. There wasn’t a chance in hell either one of them would be able to pretend last night, or this morning, didn’t happen.

  So...what? A relationship? Bad idea. Despite her best efforts to pretend it wasn’t the case, her life was a mess. At any moment she might have to pack up and run. If she and Nick were going to be more than just one night—and morning—he needed to know that. He needed to know everything.

  She did her best to tame her hair back into a ponytail and found a clean black T-shirt in Nick’s dresser. She pulled it over her dress and tied it into a knot at her hip. Not exactly a fashion statement, but it concealed the torn fabric and most of the wrinkles. She grinned at her reflection. If she pulled her ponytail over to the side of her head and teased it a little, she’d look like a flashback to Flashdance.

  Nick apparently thought the same thing. He gave her a wide smile.

  “Nice look. Are you off to the disco later?”

  “I did the best I could. Maybe we should wait until after dark to take me home.” It was bad enough the cousins knew she’d spent the night with Nick. The whole town would know it if she tried to sneak into her apartment in th
e center of town in an outfit straight out of the 1980s.

  “That’s your decision, babe. But first...” He patted the sofa cushion next to him. “We need to talk, Miss Smith.”

  “That’s not my name.” Not exactly the way she wanted to start this conversation, but the words just blurted out. Nick leaned forward and frowned.

  “Your last name isn’t Smith?”

  She twisted her fingers together. She was in it now, and Nick deserved to know the truth.

  “My last name isn’t Smith. It’s Zetticci. And my first name isn’t Cassandra. It’s Cassidy.”

  “Your name is Cassidy Zetticci. For real.” He started to smile, as if he thought she might be pulling his leg. When she didn’t respond, he realized it was no joke. “How did you manage to get past the resort’s background check?”

  “Really? That’s the first question you have?”

  He stared at the floor for a moment, his foot tapping anxiously. “I looked at your employee file.” He glanced up and noted her surprise. “I look at everyone’s files, Cassie. It’s my job. You picked the most common surname in America to make yourself harder to find. Who’s looking? Don?”

  Now it was her turn to be surprised. “How do you know about Don?”

  “Well, I didn’t hear about him from you.” He stood and paced by the windows. Carefully avoiding her. “Blake mentioned the name this morning, and it’s not that hard to put together. He’s the one who assaulted you, right?”

  On which occasion?

  “Yes.”

  Nick stopped, his brows furrowed.

  “And now he’s stalking you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You were in a relationship with him?”

  He was in full cop mode now.

  “He was my husband.”

  Blake didn’t move, yet Cassie could feel him backing away. His eyes went icy cold. His hands curled into fists, then quickly released. His mouth slid into a disapproving frown.