The Past Between Us

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The Past Between Us Page 15

by Kimberly Van Meter


  “You’re exaggerating,” he said, but his cheeks flared an adorable shade of pink. Tommy had never been comfortable being the object of so much attention. “I don’t remember a bunch of girls having a thing for me.”

  “Then you have a terrible memory,” she teased. “Just because you chose not to date in high school doesn’t mean there weren’t options. You had plenty. Frankly, I got tired of girls constantly bugging me to get to you. I considered circulating a rumor that you were gay just so they’d back off.”

  “You poor thing,” he teased right back. “And how do you think it felt for me to watch all those guys falling all over you, knowing you didn’t even see me standing beside you?”

  She sobered. She’d seen him. She’d just taken him for granted. Somehow she’d figured he was her backup plan. One of those casual ideas you have in the back of your mind for later. Much later. She chuckled softly at herself for being a blind fool “Well, live and learn, right?”

  If she could do it all over again… No, there was no sense going down that road. They’d both made their choices and they had to live with them. She forced a bright smile. “So, what’s next? Lunch at The Barbecue Pit? I haven’t eaten short ribs in so long I’ve forgotten how good they are.”

  “Sure,” he murmured, but his hand had drifted to her face. He ran his knuckles along her cheekbones, and she gazed at him, wondering what he was thinking. She didn’t have to wait long.

  He drew a deep breath as if he needed courage. “Being in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same is hard to deal with,” he admitted. “And then when they change into someone you don’t recognize…I don’t know, I couldn’t handle it.”

  Was he apologizing for the way things ended between them so many years ago? She shifted away from him, uncomfortable with the memories that popped up at his admission. She had plenty to apologize for, not him. “It’s history,” she murmured, not wanting to go further down this road, but he wasn’t ready to let it go.

  “It’s part of our history and I have to say this,” he said. “You know that day I came to your apartment…”

  She remembered it quite clearly. She’d been up for days, partying hard and fast with a group of friends that she’d picked up at Boston University. “Yeah, you were coming up to visit so I could show you around campus but I called and canceled because I wasn’t feeling well,” she recalled, but that wasn’t the whole truth. She’d been strung out and hadn’t wanted to see the disapproval in Tommy’s eyes. It probably would’ve been fine if it hadn’t been the third time she’d canceled on him.

  “I was worried about you,” he said. “But I was a little mad, too. I was tired of taking a backseat to everything else in your life, so I drove to Boston with the intention of doing the one thing I hadn’t had the balls to do in high school.”

  Her brow pulled in a frown. “Which was?”

  He leaned forward. “To finally ask you out on a date. To put myself out there and tell you what I’d always felt but was too afraid to say.”

  “Oh.” The word came out in a painful whisper. Knowing that made her feel worse, given what had happened. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  He shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize. I busted in there with my veins full of testosterone. I started it as much as you did.”

  She blinked back tears that he would be willing to shoulder her burden like that but she knew the true score. “Tommy, I was screwing up. Everything you said was true. I was just too much of a mess to realize it until it was too late and by then I was too ashamed to tell you I was sorry.”

  His rueful smile warmed her heart even though it felt as if it was cracking. “Seems we both held on to an apology that was way overdue.”

  “So now what?” she asked. “Where are we now, Tommy?”

  He sighed. “I don’t know. You said some things that made a lot of sense last night. I don’t think I’ll ever shake you out of my system. You’re like a brand on my soul and as romantic as that sounds, it kinda hurts, too.”

  At that, she offered a watery smile. “I know what you mean. That’s how I feel about you.”

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m torn between wanting you with me because I love you and always have and pushing you away because I don’t know how to forgive and forget. I’ve never been that kind of man.”

  “I know.”

  He caught her gaze. “So I don’t know where that leaves us.”

  “I don’t, either.” Lord, wasn’t that the truth? “But here’s the thing…right now we don’t have the luxury of figuring it out. I’m not naive, Tommy. I know I’ve screwed up and there’s a possibility that I might see some time for the thefts if restitution isn’t enough. And if that happens, our history will remain simply our past. So, let’s just take each day as it comes, okay?”

  The pain and regret reflecting in his eyes were surely a mirror of her own. She got it. She understood. But sometimes, ignorance was bliss.

  The rain started, tapping insistently on the roof of the car, replacing the quiet with its song. Cassi glanced at Tommy, a tiny smile on her lips for the question in her mind.

  “So if we could rewrite history, and when you came to me that day in Boston and you’d said your piece and I’d said yes, where would you’ve taken me?” Tommy didn’t seem to want to play this game, but she insisted. “C’mon, where’s the harm in seeing what might’ve happened?”

  “Because it hurts, Cassi,” he answered darkly. “I’ve already spent years playing the ‘what-if’ game and each time it left me with a sense of loss and sadness that I got tired of packing around.”

  “I understand. I did the same thing, except playing the ‘what-if’ game and coming up with a better version of what actually happened was the only thing that got me through some really bad times. Who cares if it’s total fantasy? It was my lifeline.”

  He shot her a bemused look. “Really?”

  “Yeah,” she admitted softly.

  He exhaled and his stare dropped to his booted feet as he shifted them for a better position. “Okay,” he said, giving in. She smiled as he began, slowly at first as if he were struggling to remember what his plan had been. “Well, let’s see… Okay, I’d planned to take you to dinner. I’d scoped out this little place called Bacon, Beans and Beer—”

  “Classy. I like it already,” she interjected with a teasing grin, and he actually cracked a smile.

  “Yeah, well, I was in my twenties. Any place with the word beer in the name seemed all right with me.”

  “As it should.”

  He laughed, the sound tickling her stomach. “Okay, so this place was supposed to have the best burgers around and I remember you always complaining about the fancy food your mom made you eat so I figured you’d appreciate a good ol’-fashioned burger and fries.”

  She nodded her approval. “Good choice. Okay, so after we’d stuffed our faces with burgers, what next?”

  “A movie?” he answered uncertainly, giving away that either he’d forgotten his plans or he’d planned to wing it. But then, he said a bit sheepishly, “Actually, I’d planned to take you to a club to go dancing.”

  “You hate to dance.”

  “I know, but you love to dance, so I thought with enough beer…I’d find my dancing feet, too.”

  She couldn’t help herself and busted up laughing, causing his cheeks to color. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you…I just think it’s adorable that you were prepared to suffer through a night at a club for me. That’s awesome. And so are you,” she ended with a soft chuckle, wanting so badly to lean over and kiss him. But she didn’t. She sobered as the moment faded and she realized what Tommy had meant when he said he didn’t like to do this very often. A sharp pain pierced her chest as regret settled heavily on her shoulders. Why hadn’t she made better choices? She’d give anything to rewrite that day so that everything from that moment forward was different. She might’ve finished college. She might’ve found a better way to help her mother. She migh
t’ve…been with Tommy. Scratch that—she knew she’d be with Tommy.

  And that hurt most of all.

  “Are you ready to go?” she asked.

  Sensing the change between them, Tommy nodded and pulled away from the school.

  LATER THAT NIGHT, WHILE Cassi chatted with Mama Jo in the living room over hazelnut coffee and cinnamon buns, Thomas took a minute to give Owen a call.

  “Hey, buddy,” Thomas said as Owen came on the line. “How’s the fight against the tree huggers going?”

  Owen grunted something uncomplimentary and Thomas grinned. “Keep it legal. I don’t want to have to come to California to arrest you or anything.”

  “Someone ought to arrest the group I’m fighting for committing terrorist acts against a law-abiding citizen who’s just trying to make a living. There’s one in particular that I want to… And there’s this reporter who…” Owen made a noise of frustration before saying, “Oh, forget about it. Talking about it makes my blood pressure rise. What’s up with you? Still chasing after something personal?”

  “Yeah, you could say that,” he said with a sigh, deciding to drop the bomb. “It’s Cassi.”

  “Cassi was the personal problem you were dealing with?” Owen’s voice rose with incredulity. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

  “Yeah. It’s a long story but suffice it to say she’s in my custody.”

  “Whoa. That’s…uh, well, isn’t it a conflict of interest of some sort?”

  “Yes, but I’ve got it under control.”

  “So what’s going on? Is she okay? Last I heard you two were on the outs.”

  “We were.” Shit. He’d thought talking about it with his brother might provide some clarity but he was having a hard time just putting it into words. “She’s in a bit of trouble but she may have been framed for some of it. I’m trying to help her prove her innocence.”

  “Sounds like you’re the best person for the job. No one knows Cassi like you do. And if there was ever someone who would have her back, it’s you. So what’s the problem? I can hear in your voice that something is tripping you up.”

  “She’s different. Changed. She’s done some things that I don’t believe in. You know…she’s not the girl we grew up with.”

  “Of course not,” Owen said roughly. “None of us are the kids we used to be. C’mon, Tommy…you’re not trying to hold her to some ridiculous standard that no one could live up to are you? ’Cause I know you’re better than that.”

  Thomas shook his head, wishing he hadn’t called Owen. He should’ve kept this to himself. But it was too late. Owen knew the history between him and Cassi, but he didn’t know the new stuff. “She’s been on the run for two years, stolen identities and before that she was running with a party crowd, doing drugs and shit. Does that sound like the Cassi we knew?”

  “Yeah.” Owen’s blunt answer caught him off guard.

  “What?”

  Owen chuckled on the other end and Thomas stiffened. “Listen, Tommy, you loved her so you had blinders on. She was always a wild child. You saw what you wanted to see. And that’s not to say that she wasn’t a great kid. We all were. But she had her demons, just like the rest of us. My guess is you’re judging her against a memory that was an illusion to begin with.”

  “That’s bullshit,” he retorted, annoyed that Owen would even try to imply that he was that kind of idiot. “My memory is just fine.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I’m not going to argue the point over a long-distance telephone line. Just do me a favor, try to remember that people grow and change and sometimes it’s for the better, not the worse. Okay?”

  “Why’d I call you?” he asked sourly.

  Owen gave a hearty laugh. “Because you knew I’d tell it to you straight.”

  “That’s the reason I shouldn’t have called you,” Thomas growled, but he was starting to see Owen’s point. Damn it. If that was true that meant he’d been a real sanctimonious jackass. And the realization didn’t make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. “Thanks,” he muttered with residual ill humor, but he meant the sentiment.

  “No problem,” Owen said, then drew in a deep breath as if he were resigning himself to a task he hated. “I have to get going. I have a meeting with the city council and that reporter is bound to be there, salivating at the chance to smear me in the local rag again.”

  “Play nice,” Thomas joked, but added in all seriousness, “I hope it works out in your favor, buddy.”

  “Thanks. Tell Cassi I said hi.”

  Thomas said goodbye and the line clicked off.

  He considered all that Owen had said and wondered how much he’d changed over the years. The perception he had of himself was that he’d remained the same with the basic core set of values he’d been born with.

  But perhaps that wasn’t entirely true.

  He never thought he’d be comfortable carrying a gun, yet he had excelled in weapons training.

  He never imagined he’d want to attach himself permanently to anyone, yet he kept thinking how great it would be if Cassi were his wife and perhaps the mother of his children.

  He swallowed involuntarily. Kids.

  He’d always bucked at the thought of having kids, using the job as his excuse. But he knew plenty of agents who were happily married with a passel of kids running around, happy as clams.

  He’d never thought a suburban life was his lot.

  Yet…the picture was beginning to have some appeal.

  To have someone to share his day with, to share the ups and downs of life in general—he could see the value. And when he pictured children, he saw little girls with Cassi’s features. A physical ache made him clutch at his chest as if he were having a heart attack. But what if none of that was possible? Take away the obvious issues with her recent criminal past and there was still emotional baggage to deal with.

  And if she got a judge who hoped to make an example out of her? She’d definitely see jail time. She thought just because she wrote down in her little book everyone she’d “borrowed” from then everything would be right as rain when she paid them back. If only it were that easy. He groaned. He’d never been conflicted when it came to the parameters of the law. Not so now. He was ashamed to admit that he hoped Cassi walked so that they could figure out their tangled feelings for one another.

  There was a small part of him that worried she was putting on a false front for him to gain his sympathy. But if that was the case, he realized, it was working because he’d walk through fire at this point to protect her.

  His head started to pound and he was no closer to a resolution in his mind than he was when he started thinking about it.

  He wanted Cassi. Shouldn’t that be enough?

  The question was rhetorical. And the answer made him feel like a miserable, judgmental fool.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CASSI KNEW SHE SHOULDN’T do it but she was drawn to the house, unable to stop herself even as a subtle tremble in the backs of her knees betrayed her nerves. The bastard was in there…living large on her family’s fortune, and yet she was the one on the outside looking in.

  She’d talked Mama Jo into letting her borrow her car on the pretense of going to the store for some personal items after Tommy had left to do some work at his office.

  She knew it was stupid and she was pushing the envelope on reckless but she hadn’t been home for years and she was, quite plainly, homesick.

  The expansive colonial plantation-style home loomed over the driveway; its red brick and white sideboards caused her throat to ache as a wave of memories washed over her. Her father had purchased this house when he’d married her mother, entranced by the home’s history and elegance. She’d known nothing but love and freedom in her earliest childhood but as a teen her relationship with her mother had soured as she became closer to her father.

  She’d been too young to see the cracks in her parents’ marriage, the loneliness her mother
suffered from the long absences her husband took, ostensibly on business. Cassi had only seen the love shining in her father’s eyes when he returned. Of course, she hadn’t noticed that the love hadn’t been directed toward her mother. But Olivia hadn’t been blind and she’d withered into a snappish, nervous and high-strung woman who lived for her committees and service groups while George had flourished in the sunshine of unencumbered adventure.

  As Cassi stared wistfully at the beautiful home, she suffered a pang of regret for not being the daughter Olivia had dreamed of having but also for not seeing how she’d abandoned her mother, just like her father had.

  “Mom, I’m sorry I didn’t do right by you when you were alive but I promise I will see the man who killed you brought to justice,” she vowed quietly, hoping her mother heard her and knew that she’d always loved her, even if she hadn’t been very good at showing it.

  She’d considered pulling around to the horse stables to avoid drawing attention to herself but the thought of sneaking around her own home was something she couldn’t abide, not now. So she drove right up the driveway, proclaiming with her actions that Lionel could go to hell and that she wasn’t afraid of him.

  Cassi drew a deep breath and then stepped to the front door and boldly walked in.

  Familiar smells assaulted her and she nearly staggered under their emotional weight. The grand staircase curved gently like the flare of a woman’s hip and she smiled even though it hurt to remember.

  How many times had she run like a heathen through the house, knocking over expensive things in her haste, dashing up the stairs without a care as to the value of the runner cushioning her steps as she tracked mud from the horse barn into the house? More times than she could count. Her father had always laughed at her exuberance; her mother had been distressed by it.

  Off somewhere a grandfather clock chimed the hour and she slowly climbed the stairs to where her bedroom once was. The chances were slim that Lionel had kept the room as it was before she was exiled but she was already technically trespassing so she might as well satisfy every ounce of her curiosity.

 

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