by Remy Landon
“Still not sure. But it's not looking good.”
“Oh, Carlo...I was hoping you'd made some progress.”
He sighed. How was he supposed to explain this? “It's a bit complicated. There has been some progress. We were...how can I put this delicately, even though I know you wouldn't extend me the same courtesy...”
Gianna huffed and folded her arms across her yellow bikini top.
Grinning, Carlo continued. “Let's just say we were intimate with one another, and it was incredible. She seemed to feel the same way. I ended up telling her I was in love with her.”
“Dio mio! You did? That's wonderful!”
“I hoped it would be, but it seemed to scare her. She's very leery of me, and I can't say I blame her. As I told you before, I hurt her, and I don't want to make excuses for myself, but I do think the accident changed the way I looked at women. I objectified them. And I apologize to you for that, since I'm well aware this is an insult to females.”
She was studying him carefully. “But you don't look at Cassandra as just an object.”
“No. She awakened feelings in me I never thought would resurface.”
“Does she know about the accident?”
“I alluded to how I lost someone in my past, and how it had been my fault. No details, though. We kind of got sidetracked.”
“God, Carlo, I hope she doesn't think you murdered someone or something!”
“I highly doubt it—unless she's okay sleeping with a killer.”
“Well, maybe she should hear everything. It would be good for you to tell her, even though I know it's still very painful. But it would give her an idea of what that event did to you. And it would bring you closer to her.”
“Maybe. Who knows if I'll even get the chance to talk to her again.”
“I hope you do. Please don't give up, big brother.” Gianna laid her small hand on top of his and squeezed.
Leaning closer, he put his arm around her neck and pulled her in to kiss her forehead. “I don't plan on it. It's just a tough position to be in, seeing as she wants space and I want her. But I only have myself to blame. Things have to be according to her timetable—on her terms. Which will be challenging for me. I've never been the most patient man.”
Gianna nodded her head in agreement, laughing. “Um, no...you haven't.” Lifting her glass, she finished her iced tea and frowned.
“What's wrong?”
“I'm wanting another one of these, but I'm really not feeling like going back up to the house to make one.” She looked at him hopefully.
He sighed and held his hand out for her glass. “That pout gets me every damned time. I'll go make you one. Be right back.”
Gianna blew him a kiss and settled back in her chair as he headed for the condo. It was a short distance from the beach, less than three hundred feet. His stepfather had bought the property for his mother as an anniversary gift five years ago, acknowledging with a smile their advancing age, saying they were prime candidates to be “snow birds” who would want a place close to the water so as not to tax his bad knees and Paolo's arthritic hip. But this will be a place for the whole family to share, Scott had insisted. For years to come. Unfortunately, he and Paolo would pass away just a few years later.
The last time Carlo had been to Clearwater was five months after he'd lost his wife, over three years ago. His worried mother had urged him to get away and go to the condo to soak up the sun's anti-depressant benefits. Leave your pain and sorrow behind, just for a bit, caro figlio. Take a vacation from it. It hadn't mattered, though, where he went. He still carried his loss with him, the grief that had eviscerated him. And the soul-searing guilt. He had carried it from room to room when he wandered, sleepless, at night. He had carried it lying on the sand beneath the burning sun, wading in the cool, frothy waves, drinking and forcing smiles in the noisy bars. And he had carried it back home.
Gianna was very much like his mother in many ways, and she, too, had believed this trip would be good for him—to get away from his problems with Cassandra. But he was carrying this with him as well.
Carlo approached the salmon-colored building, punched in the numbers to the combination keypad and unlocked the door. The condo was bright and open, with twenty-foot ceilings and a travertine floor dappled with sunlight. He went into the kitchen, setting Gianna's glass on the granite countertop. The five different spirits, sour mix and Coke for the Long Island were still on the bar where his sister had left them. Making the drink, he opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of Dos Equis for himself.
Walking back toward the beach, he marveled at the stunning color of the water which contrasted with the pristine white sand. The color changed, depending on the weather. On calm, clear days as today, the sea was a beautiful, clear green with a hint of blue. In wind or rain, the water appeared darker, bluer. It reminded him of Cassandra's unique eyes, and how they would often look different according to the lighting, her clothing, her mood. Looking into them after he had made love to her, they had been wide with awe—clear, lovely, aquamarine. And then, after he said the words he couldn't keep in, her eyes had changed.
Shaking off his thoughts, Carlo settled into his chair and handed the full glass to his sister before opening his beer.
Gianna sipped at her drink. “Mmm, this is perfect. Thank you.”
“This is extraordinarily hard for me, you know.”
“What is?”
“Sitting. Doing nothing. I should be doing work.”
“You need to have more down time, and it's good for you to talk to someone. I like that you are sharing things with me, fratello. I hate thinking of you keeping everything all bottled up.”
“Enough about my issues, Gi. Let's talk about you. How are the wedding plans?”
“They're good! Estelle has been a huge help. I can't believe it's three months away. I'm finalizing the menu and the ceremony, and Jordan and I have been working on writing our own vows. We're going to the jeweler's next week. You have been an angel taking care of the financial part, but we want to pay for the rings ourselves.” Her face was glowing. “I'm so excited, Carlo. I wish it would hurry up and get here, but I know once it does, the day will fly by so quickly, and I want to savor every moment.”
“It will be a very special day, cara. I'm very happy for you, but honestly, part of me doesn't want to give my baby sister away.”
Gianna's eyes were tender. “I'll always be your baby sister, Carlo. Even when we're old.”
“Good to know, because the women in my life have a tendency to leave me.”
“Let's hope that trend stops with Cassandra.”
Nodding, he forced a smile and cast his gaze to the sea, thinking of ocean-colored eyes.
chapter thirty-four ~ Cassandra
She slipped into the indoor arena, feeling a little like she was eavesdropping, but her desire to watch Josh in his training session was overriding any hesitation. He had been working with Rafsi for the past couple of weeks on her ground manners, and Cassandra had already seen an improvement in the mare when she would handle her. Ingrid, too, was very pleased.
The arena was comfortably warm, and Cassandra felt a pang as she removed her barn jacket and sat down on the long bench. For this Christmas, I give you warmth. Carlo was responsible for this—for her comfort, and discomfort. She had been feeling increasingly guilty that her contact with him had been minimal these past few weeks. There was the minor detail that she had absolutely no clue what to say to him. Yet she didn't want to break contact with him entirely. Ironically, it seemed as though now she had the power. Even though she didn't really want it.
She leaned back against the bench. Josh was standing quietly beside the black mare, facing away from Cassandra with his head tilted down. No cowboy hat this time. He had a long black rope looped in his hand and clipped to Rafsi's halter. She appeared to be listening to him intently, one of her ears tipped backwards. He took a few steps, and the horse moved with him, matching his steps with hers and
neither going ahead of him nor lagging behind. Leaving the lead line slack, Josh made a sharp left, and Rafsi followed. A few steps forward, then a right, with the mare at his side. And another right, so that he was now facing Cassandra. His face registered surprise, then pleasure, and he grinned, giving her a little nod. She smiled back, now feeling instantly at ease to be in here watching. She would wait, though, for him to speak, since she didn't want to break any sort of connection between him and Rafsi.
Josh walked up to the fence and halted in front of Cassandra with Rafsi in perfect sync. “Hey,” he said. “I didn't think you were working till later.”
“I'm not. I have bring-in, but I thought I'd do my stalls early. Plus, there are some days I really feel like I need to be here, and this is one of those days.”
“I understand. Being around them just puts you in a better space, doesn't it? Although I have to admit, there are a few people who do that for me. And I'm looking at one of them.”
Cassandra blushed, fighting the urge to scrunch up her shoulders and feeling at a total loss for how to respond. Josh was looking his usual gorgeous self, in a red plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, faded jeans and cowboy boots. He had been wearing his hair a bit longer this winter, and it had grown out in short, unruly waves that added to his boyish charm.
“Well, thank you,” she said lightly. “That's very nice of you.”
“I speak the truth.”
“So you're doing that natural horsemanship thing again?”
“Yep. She's doing great—much calmer and more in tune to me. I think she really likes the direction, the focus. She's too scattered otherwise, so she appreciates having a purpose.”
“'Scattered' is the perfect word to describe Rafsi...poor girl.”
“I've known some women like this mare.” Josh chuckled, rubbing a spot on the mare's neck with his knuckles. “Gorgeous, but flighty as hell.” He paused. “You, on the other hand...”
“Are you saying I'm ugly and calm?”
He laughed, his dimples appearing. “Gorgeous and grounded.”
Her face was flaming again. “I'd have to disagree with both of those.”
“I'm just telling you what I see.”
“Changing the subject. You're not wearing your hat today.”
“No...I wanted to be able to get close enough to whisper sweet nothings in her ear.” Winking, he added, “The horse, too.”
Jesus. She folded her arms self-consciously and shook her head, biting her lip as she looked away.
“Hey, I'm just about done with her for today. How about we go for a trail ride?”
“Right now?”
“Sure, if you have time. The snow's a good consistency—no crust to worry about, and there's only about six inches. But no pressure...I'm going to take Tango out anyway. Now that you officially own Brownie, you don't need Ingrid's permission anymore, right?”
This was true. It was a beautiful winter's day, sunny and fairly mild, and she really didn't have anything else to do except a little studying when she got home.
“Okay. That sounds fun.”
Brownie nickered when he saw her at the pasture gate. He trotted up and nuzzled her, lipping the peppermint out of her glove. She rubbed his blaze, feeling a rush of gratitude for this incredible gift. God, how she loved this boy.
She and Josh tacked up and headed out into the glorious day, the two horses walking side by side in the powdery snow. They headed out into the back field, riding past the other horses who looked up in interest. It was quiet and peaceful, with only the faraway drone of a small plane drifting lazily against the canvas of blue sky.
Entering the woods, the trail was narrow and they rode single file, with Josh and Tango in the lead. Brownie's walk was big and springy; he was undoubtedly glad to be ridden somewhere other than the arena. The trees overhead were frosted with snow, bars of sunlight streaming through the latticework of branches.
“Josh, thanks for inviting me...I honestly have never done much outside riding in the winter, but it's gorgeous out here.”
He turned to respond over his shoulder. “It is. Some people can't stand the winter, but I love it—especially riding after a snowfall. Everything's so clean-looking, and the air is refreshing. The horses feel it, too. I missed the snow when I was in South Carolina.”
The trail widened, and Cassandra squeezed her legs to move Brownie up beside Tango. Josh grinned at her. “Much better. I like to look at you when we talk.”
Thank God her cheeks were already red from the chilly air. “So when did you move south?”
“A few years ago. I was under some stress and needed a change, so I moved to South Carolina to bartend for a while. That got old pretty fast. Then my mom was laid up with a back injury and needed my help. She's better now, thankfully, but I probably would have made my way back up here anyway. It's home, you know?”
Cassandra nodded. “I get that. E-town isn't perfect, but it's home. I can't imagine living anywhere else.”
“Do you miss riding young?”
Her brow wrinkled in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“The way you rode when you were younger—like balls-to-the-wall, galloping across fields without a helmet and no thought to gopher holes, or falling, or broken bones.”
“Oh!” She laughed. “Yes, I guess I do. We were blissfully ignorant then, weren't we?”
“Yep. Not a care in the world—no responsibilities, and nothing bad happened. Ever.”
Cassandra turned her head to look at him, curious about the change in Josh's tone.
“But you grow up, right?” he continued. “You learn about how vulnerable you really are, and things like broken bones.”
And broken hearts.
“Hey.” His face brightened, and he was back to his usual cheerful self. “Let's ride young. There's a little rise coming up—you want to gallop with me? Just a short distance. So we can feel like we're still fearless.”
“Now? I—I don't know,” she stammered. “I've only cantered on him.”
“No pressure. Seriously. I won't if you don't want to.”
Cassandra hesitated. She had loved galloping when she was younger. Really loved it, that speedoflightbreakingthesoundbarriersofastyoucanbarelybreathe feeling. But now...
What had she told Teal recently? I don't want turmoil. I want calm, and safe.
She took a deep breath and then made a decision. “Let's do it.”
Josh's face broke into a delighted grin. “Okay, then.” He gathered up his reins in one hand, the other on his hat, and clucked to Tango as he urged him forward, and suddenly, Cassandra felt Brownie's pure power beneath her—really felt it, like never before—as the gelding's strides lengthened from a trot to a canter to a gallop within seconds.
God, this was exhilarating: the snow from the flying hooves of Tango in front of her kicking up in a fine spray...leaning forward over Brownie's muscular neck as if she were a jockey...deliciously terrified, yet feeling secure and balanced in the saddle. It was an incredible rush to not only let Brownie go like this, but to let herself go, too...
They galloped up the slight incline, beneath the now-dripping branches, and Tango slowed in front of her into a lope for a few strides, then a jog, finally settling into a walk, clouds of breath coming from the noses of both horses and steam rising from their sweating backs.
With a long, deep breath, she loosened Brownie's reins and let him stretch his neck, riding up beside Josh again. He whooped and held up his gloved hand to her. She smiled and gave him a high-five, brushing strands of hair away from her lips and taking her feet out of her stirrups to dangle comfortably.
“We did it,” he said breathlessly.
“We're fearless,” she grinned.
The horses were sufficiently cooled down by the time they got back to the stable. Cassandra put Brownie's blanket back on before turning him out. He seemed very relaxed and contented as she removed his halter and watched him amble toward his equine friends.
Back in the barn, Cassandra took off her jacket and pulled her hair into a low ponytail. She went into Ingrid's office and opened up the small refrigerator, taking out two bottles of Dasani when Josh appeared in the doorway.
She handed him one of the waters. “Looking for this?”
“This, and you.”
A tingle in her chest. Her heart began to pound as he closed the door behind him. “Cassandra—I had a great time taking a risk with you.”
“Me too.”
“Are you still feeling daring? Even in Ingrid's office?” He grinned.
“I don't know,” she murmured. Truth.
“I've been wanting to do this for a while now. I'm probably stating the obvious, but I really like you. Sorry if that sounds lame and junior high-ish, but it's the best I got.” He was smiling at her, his eyes light and playful.
“I—I really like you, too, Josh.” Her mouth felt cottony, and she opened her water and drank.
He came closer, gently took her water bottle out of her hand and set both bottles on Ingrid's desk. All of a sudden his arms were around her, and as she opened her mouth to speak, his lips were on hers. His mouth was warm, his tongue seeking hers eagerly. Confusion, surprise and arousal all blended together in a dizzying concoction as she tentatively returned his kiss.
It struck her how entirely different this felt than Carlo. She hated that she was comparing. But she was comparing.
Josh's kisses were softer, slower, more hesitant. Now he was kissing her in a pattern: a light kiss on first one side of her mouth, then the other...then covering her lips with his and sliding his tongue in her mouth. And repeat. She was just starting to get into the rhythm of this when she felt his hands leave her waist and slide up slowly to her breasts, squeezing them gently through her jersey. For some reason, it surprised her that he would move so quickly, and she wasn't quite sure how she felt about this. She stiffened slightly, and Josh felt it, pulling back to look at her with an anxious expression.
“Are you okay? Tell me if you want me to stop. I'm not going to do anything you don't want to do.”