by Mary Campisi
“Do you want to stay here or should I carry you to the bedroom?” The huskiness in his voice told her the bedroom was too far away.
Tess ran a finger along the bulge in his jeans, sighed. “Let’s stay right here.”
She leaned forward, trailed her tongue along his neck, once, twice, three times until he groaned. “Tess.”
The need in his voice made her want to please him until he climaxed in exquisite pleasure. She sat up and straddled him, unbuttoned her shirt, and slid it off. “Now? Here?” She unbuckled his belt, slid the zipper down. “Like this?”
“Hell, yes,” Cash said in a half moan. He unclasped her bra, tossed it across the room, and gripped her hips. “Slide those panties aside and—”
Cash’s cell phone cut off his words. He cursed and yanked the phone out of his pocket, glanced at the caller ID, glanced at Tess. She stared back at him, half-undressed, her hand on his crotch, poised and ready to make love. Was it Stephanie? He dragged a hand through his hair, shoved the phone back in his pocket, and reached for her.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Really bad timing.”
“You think so?” She should ask who it was, but if it was Stephanie Richmond, she really did not want to know.
“Come here,” he said, pulling her toward him. “Let me touch you.” She leaned forward, kissed him as his hands roamed her thighs, her hips, her belly…circled to her panties, dipped a finger inside the fabric. Tess moaned deep in his mouth, ran a hand along his belly to his chest…
When Cash’s cell rang this time, they sprang apart, stared at one another. “Damn it, why can’t everybody just leave us the hell alone?” He grabbed the phone, checked the caller ID, and cursed again. “It’s Stephanie,” he said, his gaze sliding to hers.
What to say to that? Was he asking permission to answer, or was he explaining why he was about to?
“I guess it could be important.” His gaze didn’t leave hers.
“I guess it could.” Or maybe it’s not important at all. Maybe it’s a ploy to get your attention and pull you away from me.
The phone stopped ringing. “If it were urgent, she’d leave a message.”
“Uh-huh.” Her voice clogged and she knew the tears would start soon. They’d almost had their moment with no one intruding, just them, like it used to be. And now it was gone.
Cash tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Let’s go to bed, okay? I’ll leave the phone out here.” She’d been about to nod when the phone dinged, signaling a voicemail message. “Damn.”
Tess eased off of him and stood, anxious to get away before she fell apart. Stephanie Richmond was not going to leave them alone, not even if she only had five months to live. Tess snatched up her shirt and slipped it on, then reached for her bra. “I guess you should call her,” she said, fixing her gaze on the bra clutched between her hands. “I’m sure it’s important.”
“Tess. Wait.” He stood and made his way toward her. “I’ll see what she wants and then I’ll meet you in the bedroom.” The smile he offered wobbled and fell apart, like a man caught between desire and duty.
She shook her head, stepped back. “I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.” And then she made her way to their bedroom knowing he wouldn’t follow, knowing too, there would be an emergency involving Stephanie Richmond, real or imagined, and Cash would be required to come to the rescue.
CASH NEVER PLANNED to be anybody’s hero; too many expectations, too much potential for disappointment, too many chances to get hurt. But that’s what Tess had called him when he graduated from the police academy and just about every day after that, all the way until he shot her brother. Then he was nobody’s hero and he’d been fine with that. No worries over doing something that would destroy a trust, or worse, break a heart. That’s how life had been until he reconnected with Tess. Then he became her hero again, and he’d actually liked that title, had wanted to live up to it, and damn it, he had.
And then Stephanie came to town with a sad story and a boy she claimed was his and he’d gone from hero status in his wife’s eyes to loser. Or did she think he was just a jerk? Or an asshole? Maybe a bastard after the way he left her tonight. Could be any or all of the above, take your pick. Either way, his wife hadn’t called him a hero in a long time and leaving her seconds before they made love had been a bad deal. That was real asshole material, but what choice did he have?
Stephanie needed him. Damn, he did not want to be needed by an ex-lover who thought he was real hero material. He didn’t want her to call him a hero either, but he didn’t know how to stop it. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been able to stop other comments she made, or a few gestures, like kissing him on the lips in greeting or leaning over and whispering in his ear, lips grazing his lobe. Maybe he was extra sensitive because Tess saw every comment and gesture as over the line, but what was a guy to do? Stephanie was dying and he guessed that made her extra emotional. It was the dying part that made him rush to the Heart Sent when she called ten minutes ago, said she had an issue with Mason she needed to discuss in person and could he stop over for a few minutes? No, he hadn’t wanted to stop over; he’d wanted to make love to his wife and get lost in her softness. But guilt had forced him to hop in his truck and head to the Heart Sent.
When he arrived, Stephanie was standing on the front porch, waiting. “Oh, Cash, thank you so much for coming.” She rushed down the steps, flung her arms around his middle, and buried her head against his chest. “It’s so darn hard being a single parent. Sometimes, it’s just too much.”
A whimper and a sob escaped her, made him say in the gentle voice he usually reserved for Tess, “It’s okay, Steph. You’re not alone anymore. I’m here.”
She released her hold on him, eased back until she could see his face. “I knew I could count on you.” Her voice cracked, and she whispered, “I knew I could always count on you.”
“You can.” Bad enough to be a single parent, but to know you weren’t going to be around long enough to see it through? That had to eat at her every day, more than the chemo ever had. His annoyance at having to leave his wife faded and he said, “Let’s go inside and talk.”
One more smile and a quick swipe of her cheek before Stephanie laced her fingers through his and made her way to the porch. He told himself this was technically not handholding because he only did that with Tess. This was more about comfort and guidance.
“Do you want to go to my room?” She paused between the sitting area and the steps. “It’s more private there, and I’m not sure when Mason and Mimi will be back. She took him out for an ice cream cone.”
Cash unlaced his fingers from hers, took a step back. “Uh, no, let’s go to Mimi’s sitting room.” He didn’t wait for her to answer but headed for the sitting room and sat on the couch. Steph’s sudden clinginess bothered him and sent out warning signals that said, She’s trying to put a move on you. Watch out. Female in hunting mode. He’d always been good at sensing when a woman locked her sights on him, and he’d been very good at ignoring the signs—unless he didn’t want to ignore them. But his interest in other women ended the minute he saw Tess again after all those painful years apart. Stephanie couldn’t be targeting him that way. She knew he had a wife he loved and knew he was committed to that wife. Hell, she had to know he’d never cheat on Tess, and besides, Stephanie was dying. What was the point? But when she curled up next to him on the couch, hip to hip, he started to wonder if that was exactly the point. “Steph? What are you doing?”
“I just want to be close to you.” She rested her hand on his thigh, dark eyes bright.
Cash eased her hand from his thigh, cleared his throat. “So, what’s going on with Mason? You said it was urgent.” How long did it take to get a damn ice cream cone? Mimi and Mason should be back soon, shouldn’t they? So what if the boy saw him talking to his mother? Maybe they should all have a conversation about whatever the issue was… And where was the other Heart Sent guest? Tula something or other, the strange lady with the gray braid
who jogged around town in pink exercise clothes and a bandanna. Now that was a sight. He cleared his throat again and tried to inch away from Stephanie.
“Mason’s starting to ask a lot of questions.” She looked away, shrugged. “Like exactly when are we leaving and when are we coming back? Where will we live? When will he see you?” A long pause before she darted a glance at him, whispered, “Would you and I ever get back together?”
What the hell was she saying? “He asked that?” Cash tried to calm his growing agitation. “What did you tell him?” Before she could answer, he rolled right into his next question. “He still doesn’t know you’re not coming back here?” He’d tried to avoid saying the word dying because people with a terminal diagnosis didn’t need everybody reminding them. He’d guess they thought about it every time they breathed, every time they saw a calendar, or heard someone mention “next year.”
Her voice cracked, spilled out words coated in so much pain he didn’t know how she could put sound to them. “I can’t do that to him. Not yet. He’s so young and still naïve enough to believe nothing will ever happen to me.” She swiped at her cheeks. “I have to let him believe that, at least for now. And you can help.”
He didn’t like being part of a continuing lie that could backfire on all of them when Mason learned the truth. “The boy needs time to adjust, and if you pretend around it, it’s not going to be good—for him or anybody else.”
She clasped his arm, squeezed. “But can’t we pretend just a little while longer?”
“The truth always catches up with you.” Hadn’t he learned that in the years he’d spent denying that he still loved Tess? “If you face it head on, you can find a way to deal with it.” He gentled his voice. “I’ll help you.”
Her bottom lip quivered, her eyes grew bright with tears. “I don’t want to die. I thought I was ready, thought I had it all planned out, but I’m not.” Big swipes across her cheeks, followed by the saddest look he’d seen in a long while. “I’m scared.” More tears and before he understood what was happening, she’d buried her head on his thigh, clutched his leg, and whimpered. “So scared. Please don’t leave me.”
Cash hesitated, and for a split second knew how Nate must have felt when Natalie Servetti came after him in seduction mode and almost tore his marriage apart. Stephanie wasn’t Natalie, and this wasn’t a seduction, but the result of real grief and fear. He stroked her back as though she were a frightened child, which in some ways, she was right now. “I won’t leave you.”
“I want to go home as soon as possible.” She sniffed, clutched his leg harder. “I want you to come with me and Mason, see where he lives, what his life is like, so you’ll know down the road. It’s going to be important to see for yourself and share the history, because once I’m gone there’ll be nobody to help Mason remember. Please. I need you to do this.”
How could he deny her request? Tess wouldn’t like it, no doubt about that one, but what if she came with them? She’d get a feel for Mason’s background and how he grew up and that would help when the boy moved in with them. Wouldn’t it?
“Cash? Please say you’ll come.”
“I will.” He and Tess could do this together, create a bond with Mason that would benefit them as a family.
“Promise me,” she whimpered.
Fear had taken over logic. It must be horrible to know you were going to die soon. Maybe not the exact day or hour, but close enough. And to look into your child’s eyes and absolutely know you were not going to see him grow up, not see him marry or have his first child? That was real sorrow, and nobody should suffer that alone. “I give you my word.”
She lifted her head, met his gaze, tears shimmering in her eyes. “Thank you. Thank you so very much.”
“Sure.” Promises were easy to make; it was keeping them that was tough.
Cash stayed with Stephanie until she fell asleep, head resting on his thigh, hand clutching his leg. He’d had a lot of time to think as he waited for Stephanie to doze off. Would Tess agree to come with him to Ohio? He needed her there, didn’t want to face all of the emotions and tears that would be tied up in a final good-bye between a mother and son. Guys weren’t built for this kind of thing. It was women who understood it all, didn’t shy away from it. Hell, many of them actually embraced the damn tears and grief. His wife would know what to do and how to manage the situation. Plus, the vibes he got from Stephanie tonight kind of weirded him out and Tess’s presence would take care of that. Now all he had to do was convince his wife to make the trip with him.
Could she really refuse him?
He had his answer early the next morning before he finished his first cup of coffee. Cash had gotten up early, fixed Tess an omelet with rye toast, poured her coffee and had it all ready when she stepped into the kitchen. Her half smile said she was thinking of forgiving him for running out on her last night, and the sparkle in her gaze told him she might like to continue where they left off. These were good signs, and they boosted his confidence that it was the time to ask her the question that had disrupted a good part of his sleep last night.
“You want me to take a trip to Ohio?”
He nodded. “That’s right.”
“And the purpose of the trip is to get a feel for where Mason grew up, help him pack, and I’m guessing be there when Stephanie tells him she won’t be accompanying him to Magdalena because she’s dying.”
“Pretty much.”
“Uh-huh.” Tess lifted her coffee mug, took a sip. “She’s going to need support and somebody to help her deal with saying good-bye to her son for the last time.” She shook her head, eyes narrowed on her coffee mug. “It’s not going to be easy or pretty.”
“Yeah, I know.” Cash placed a hand on her forearm, stroked the soft skin. “That’s one of the reasons I need you there. You know I hate this kind of stuff. I’m no good at it. I’m getting sweaty just thinking about the conversation where she tells Mason she’d dying.”
“And it sounds like she has no support systems in place, so she’ll be all alone. That won’t be easy.”
“Exactly.” Tess knew how this stuff worked and that was one of the many reasons he needed her with him on this trip. Interpretation of emotions and order of operations. His wife was a great organizer and planner—one of the best. Maybe she could even help Stephanie get in touch with hospice or whatever people did.
“I see.” She forked a wedge of omelet, plopped it in her mouth and chewed.
Cash snatched a piece of rye toast from Tess’s plate and bit into it. He’d been too anxious to eat, but this conversation was going better than expected, and that made him relax, which made him hungry. “I’m not sure how long we’d be there. Ten days? What do you think? I wouldn’t want to stay longer than that, which means we’d have to work fast and be efficient.” He smiled at Tess, trailed his fingers along the inside of her wrist. “I hate to leave Henry, but I already talked to Nate and he said the old boy could stay with them until we get back.”
She raised a brow. “Does Christine know about this?”
Cash shrugged, polished off the rest of her toast, and eyed the half-eaten omelet. “Not yet. Nate said he’d wait until he had more details.” He plastered the smile on his face he knew she’d never been able to resist and said, “You know, details like are you coming, too. I mean, you’re the key.”
“I’m sure I am.”
“So, what do you think? Will you come with me?”
She sipped her coffee, took her time responding as if she hadn’t decided what to say or how she wanted to say it. Or maybe she already had her answer all planned out and wanted to build anticipation. Hell, he’d wait another three hours if she said yes. But a minute into the wait had him getting antsy. “Tess? I don’t mean to rush you, but…”
“But you’re going to rush me, aren’t you?”
Was she playing with him? He couldn’t tell by her expression or the tone of her voice. “If you need extra time, let me know.” Cash picked up a butter
knife, fiddled with it. Why couldn’t she just say yes now so he could get the ball rolling? The sooner Mason knew the truth and Stephanie knew that he knew, they could help her with the personal stuff like hospice, funeral arrangements…morbid, but necessary and better when you didn’t have to do it alone.
“I don’t need extra time.”
Cash heaved a sigh. “Good. I figure we can get things in motion so Steph doesn’t have to worry—”
“No.”
“No?” He scratched his jaw, stared at her. “No, what?”
She eased her arm from his hand, pushed her plate aside, and faced him. “No, I’m not going with you.”
“You’re not? I thought…” Hadn’t she just said she was going?
“I never said I was going. What I said was that I didn’t need extra time.”
Damn, but he had totally not understood that. Maybe because he needed her to go with him and didn’t want to consider what a trip without her would look like. “Can’t we even talk about it?”
“What’s to talk about? You sound like you’ve got it all figured out.”
How could she bleach the emotion from her voice like none of this mattered? Didn’t she care that a boy was about to lose his mother, or that a woman was about to lose her son and her life? And Cash had been left in charge? Was she really going to make him do this alone? “Come on, Tess, can you at least tell me why?”
“I can, but I don’t think you’re going to like what you hear.”
What he didn’t like was the coldness and the lack of concern in her voice. Weren’t they a team and didn’t teammates work together, no matter what? Cash settled back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest and said, “Try me.”
“Something isn’t right. The woman cries and acts so caring and almost saintly, as though every action is about someone else, especially her son. And yet she still hasn’t told him she’s sick, let alone that she’s dying? That poor boy is going to be a mess and I think it’s wrong and selfish of her to leave him in the dark. She wants you to think she’s sacrificing and doing good, but I don’t believe her. There are too many inconsistencies in her stories.”