Loose Ends

by Kristen Ashley

“I will, Daddy.”

  Christ, daddy was the most beautiful word in the English language.

  Right after husband.

  But Ruth would be good.

  Pepper was her mother, in looks and personality. Boisterous, fun-loving, full of energy and bossy, she was Cassie head to toe. Cassie had named her and it seemed with that she’d claimed their eldest in every way she could.

  Ruth, named by Deacon, was like her mother in looks, but her father in temperament. Quiet. Contemplative. But a risk taker. If there was something to try or discover, she was all in. But she did it introspectively. It was the experience, not the thrill, that engrossed her.

  Deacon helped his girls with their jackets and walked them out to Milagros’s car, then buckled Ruth in while Milagros dealt with Pepper.

  “Love my girls,” he said into the back seat.

  “Love you too, Dadday!” Pepper cried.

  “Love you, Daddy,” Ruth replied, looking him direct in the eyes.

  He gave them a wink before he pulled out of the door, closed it and moved around to accept Cassie’s friend’s kiss on his cheek.

  “Manuel or I will have them home by eight,” she promised.

  It was nearing six.

  Two hours for whatever Cassie had planned.

  He nodded.

  She smiled, got in the car, and with all three females in the vehicle waving at him, she drove down the lane.

  Deacon watched her turn out on the street before he jogged back into the house, straight to the kitchen, and ripped open the envelope. Even though his Cassie could get creative, he was relatively certain what he’d find.

  In it was a folded, lined piece of paper that had nothing on it but a huge 11 written in black Sharpie.

  Yup.

  His wife was a boss.

  And yup.

  That was what he thought he’d find, or a shorter version of it.

  He grinned, and refolding the paper, he shoved it in the back pocket of his jeans as walked back to the front door.

  He did not run to cabin eleven.

  But he didn’t fuck around getting there.

  This meant he didn’t waste time looking around the setting of cabins at the end of the lane that made up Glacier Lily Cottages, which he and Cassidy rented to skiers, hikers, photographers, nature enthusiasts and whatever folk wanted to spend time in a kickass cottage by a river in the Rockies.

  He didn’t need to look around.

  After six years living there, and years before that spending the little downtime he let himself have in cabin eleven, doing it wondering why in the fuck Cassidy did not have a man, not to mention wishing he was the kind of man who deserved to have her, he knew every inch of the place.

  In those years, he’d constructed the laundry nooks that had stackable washer/dryers in each cabin. He’d put in the new double-glazed windows so renters had more peace, more privacy, and he and Cassie could cut down on heating bills. He’d built the convenience shed with the industrial washer and dryer so Cassie and Milagros didn’t have to lug bedding up to the shed by the house. This also allowed them to offer towels to their guests (something they didn’t used to do). All that shit now housed in a clean, cool area that was handy. There was also the gazebo he’d built before they were married, which was where they were married, not to mention where he’d asked her to marry him.

  So yeah.

  He knew that place.

  It was not hers the first time he’d found it.

  It became hers and she made it all hers.

  Then it became theirs, and she made it that way too.

  He had a job outside Glacier Lily, Cassie looked after the girls and worked the cabins.

  But it was still theirs.

  His wife wanted her husband in her life in all ways she could have him. She made no bones about it. There was no yours and mine. There was ours. Our home. Our business. Our money.

  Our daughters.

  He dug belonging somewhere, to someone, after knocking loose for so long.

  But that last part was by far the best.

  Only part better was belonging to Cassie.

  He jogged up the path that led up the hill to eleven, which was the most secluded of the cabins, removed, surrounded by trees, why he’d chosen it back in the day but why it was useful for the purposes he and Cassidy used it now. That and a heavy dose of the good kind of nostalgia.

  He went to and through the open door.

  He locked it behind him.

  He walked right to the bedroom they always used, the one he’d always used when he was alone, and stopped in the door.

  And there she sat on the side of the bed facing him. She was wearing faded jeans, worn blue Chucks, a brown shirt that said Maxwell Construction on it in yellow over a tight pale-yellow thermal. Her dark hair was down. She had no hint of makeup. Her tits and hips were bigger after giving birth to two babies.

  And she was what she’d been the first time he’d laid eyes on her.

  The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  “You’re not naked,” he noted.

  She smiled.

  Fuck yeah.

  The most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

  “Get naked,” he ordered, moving into the room.

  His Cassie Boss could seriously boss.

  But she was also really good at doing what she was told.

  Deacon watched and thrusted as she found it.

  Cassie’s head was turned, cheek to the sheet on her knees, legs spread, ass in the air, arms cinched at her wrists behind her back with black, silk rope.

  His Cassie liked to be tied up and other manner of all things kinky.

  It wasn’t the best thing about her, but it sure as fuck made the list.

  She was gorgeous normally. Movie-star gorgeous. Double-take gorgeous. Knock-a-man-back gorgeous. Bring-him-to-his-knees gorgeous.

  Coming, she was fucking magnificent.

  Even so, he had trouble not staring at her ass, especially while he was fucking her.

  His wife had a stellar ass.

  “Baby,” she gasped, “come.”

  “Who’s tied up?” he asked.

  Her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed, her lips wet, her shining hair all over the bed, but still she smiled.

  “Do you get to boss when you’re tied up?” he continued, thrust hard, stayed inside and rolled his hips.

  She bit her lip and her eyes opened only for him to watch them roll back in her head.

  Good.

  Orgasm two.

  Time to let himself blow.

  He did that. Giving it to her like she liked it, which was how he liked it, and eyes locked to her hands bound behind her back just above her ass, Deacon groaned as he shot inside the sweet, wet heat that was his Cassie.

  Nirvana.

  Every damned time.

  He fucked her gentle after he came down and untied her wrists as he did it.

  She stretched her arms in front of her then curled her hands under her cheek, all while she swayed into his slow thrusts.

  They didn’t talk much when they connected like this. Years together, it wasn’t about it being practiced, rote. It was all good. Brilliant. It was just they were so in sync, their communication was nonverbal.

  Eventually, he pulled out, rolled her to her back, lowered himself on her, then tossed the comforter over them.

  She pressed up and he took the cue, rolling them to their sides where she immediately tangled herself up in him, doing it snuggling deep.

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in deeper.

  “What’s the occasion?” he asked the top of her hair.

  Cassie tipped her head back and looked at him. “Occasion?”

  “Cabin eleven.”

  She smiled. “I miss it.”

  “Yeah,” he replied. “It’s been a whole three weeks since you forked our girls on Milagros and arranged for me to come bang your brains out in eleven. I was worried it’d ceased to exist.”

/>   She burst out laughing, and he loved it when she did that. Particularly when he made her do it, and even more particularly when she did it tangled up in him so he could feel her tightening all around.

  When she quit laughing, she admitted, “Okay, I have an ulterior motive.”

  “Mm-hmm,” he muttered.

  She scooched closer. “I want to ask a favor.”

  Deacon sighed.

  The cabins needed something.

  He’d failed to note earlier the new insulation they’d blown in last autumn.

  And the new fridges they’d put in that summer after Cassie found some website that had really fucking good ones for really fucking low prices, but they were dinged or scratched in places you couldn’t see. Apparently, no one wanted a new fridge that was dinged and scratched.

  Those fridges “completed the look” (her words) of her years-long redesign of the cabins’ kitchens.

  They also used less energy, which did not suck.

  “No, you can’t put hot tubs on the back porches of all the cabins,” he told her.

  She got a faraway look and he instantly wanted to kick his own ass.

  Instead, he gave his wife a squeeze and growled, “Cassidy.”

  “Hot tubs would be rad.”

  Jesus.

  “We’re not putting hot tubs outside each cabin.”

  “A communal one,” she pushed.

  “No.”

  Her eyes lit. “One for us?”

  That he’d consider.

  He communicated this to her by grunting.

  She added a bright smile to her bright eyes, but she didn’t say anything.

  “So . . .” he prompted.

  Suddenly, she became serious.

  “Okay, keep an open mind,” she said to begin.

  At this, Deacon frowned.

  If he had it in him to give, he’d give it. She knew that. He’d told her that. Repeatedly. Then they’d lived that for years.

  What could this “favor” be that had her preparing him when the only time he’d said no to her (and meant it) was when she wanted to have Pepper’s ears pierced when she was two, and he’d wanted Pepper to be of an age she could somewhat intelligently make decisions about needles being poked into her body for non-medical reasons.

  Cassie got his aversion to needles and didn’t push it.

  They agreed to give their daughter the option on her seventh birthday.

  “Baby,” he whispered, not liking her hesitation.

  “Promise to have an open mind?”

  Jesus.

  “Do you have to ask that?”

  She pushed into him and replied quietly, “I do when I’m going to try to talk you into having another kid. Ruth is getting so big. Pepper will be in school soon. And I’m just not ready to live in a house without a baby in it.”

  His chin shot into his throat.

  Um . . .

  What?

  “You do not have to ask that shit, and you definitely do not have to act weird about it or explain it,” he growled.

  “Dea—”

  “You want another kid, we’ll have another kid,” he went on.

  His wife blinked.

  “Three things on this earth I give a shit about, you and our girls. I got enough in me to give a shit about a fourth if that fourth is something made of you and me.”

  “You love Milagros,” she said softly.

  “I like Milagros. I respect her. I love you and our girls.”

  “You love Raid,” she kept at him.

  He couldn’t deny that, but he sure as shit wasn’t going to confirm it verbally since she was missing his point.

  She snuggled into him, mumbling, “You so love Raid.”

  “Whatever,” he mumbled back. But he spoke normal when he said, “Ditch the birth control pills.”

  Her eyes widened, “Like . . . now?”

  “I reckon we got just under an hour before the girls come home so you’re not leaving this bed. But yeah. Later. After the girls are down.”

  “God, sometimes I forget just how much you love me,” she whispered, staring at him in wonder.

  But now she was pissing him off.

  “I’m not giving you a kidney, I’m givin’ you a kid which, incidentally, is a kid you’ll be giving me,” he clipped.

  He saw that she immediately caught on she’d poked the bear.

  “Okay, Badass,” she said soothingly.

  Deacon was not soothed.

  “Just to be clear, you needed a kidney, I’d give you a kidney,” he continued.

  She now appeared like she didn’t know whether to laugh or start weeping.

  “I know,” she forced out.

  “You really wanted hot tubs, I’d get you hot tubs.”

  “Baby,” she breathed, pressing even closer.

  “You’re it. You’re my life. You’re the reason I breathe. You’re my wife. You’re my savior. My life had no meaning until you entered it.”

  Her voice was choked when she ordered, “Stop.”

  He didn’t stop.

  “And you know all that shit, so don’t act like you don’t know how much I love you. You fuckin’ do.”

  “Yes, I do,” she whispered.

  Only then did Deacon shut up.

  Cassidy knew her husband, so she gave him time.

  Then she said, “I’d give you a kidney too.”

  “I would not allow that.”

  Another blink, this one different.

  It was what he’d named in his head the “Oh Shit Blink.”

  “You wouldn’t?” she asked.

  As per his norm, he ignored the Oh Shit Blink and prepared for one part of all they had that was just like everything else.

  Something Deacon goddamned cherished.

  Beautiful war.

  “No way you’d walk around with one kidney after givin’ me the other one. You can do it if it’s my kidney that you needed, because if you didn’t get it you wouldn’t have any, which would mean I wouldn’t have you. But not givin’ me one of yours. Something happened to the last one you had, I’d not be down with that.”

  She pulled slightly away. “So, you’d walk around with one kidney after giving me the other one, but you wouldn’t let me do the same for you?”

  “Fuck no.”

  She pulled farther away.

  He yanked her back.

  She knew him so she didn’t push that.

  What she did was declare, “That’s crazy.”

  “It fucking is not.”

  “I should be able to give you my kidney,” she snapped.

  “Baby, you carried and pushed out two beautiful girls for me, and you’re up for goin’ for round three. You’re not giving me a kidney.”

  “I cannot believe you won’t let me give you a kidney.”

  “I won’t need one, so there’s no reason to be pissed about it.”

  “It’s the principle, Deacon.”

  “I don’t care, Cassie.”

  “If you need a kidney, I’m giving you a kidney!” Now she was near-on shouting.

  Right, this had now officially gotten out of hand.

  Not to mention, it was fucking ridiculous.

  “Babe—”

  “No way!” she cut him off. “Welcome to the new millennium, Deacon Deacon! Where the damsel gets to save the dude in distress if that’s the way it goes.”

  Time to contain this.

  He cupped her jaw in his hand and dipped his face to hers. “And what if something happened to you? What would our girls do?”

  “And what if something happened to you? I’d be Rebecca.”

  His head jerked. “Who?”

  “Rebecca!” she shouted. “From This Is Us, except without the marrying the new guy part. Definitely without the marrying the best friend part. I’d be lost. I’d be gone. I’d never get over it.”

  “Baby, you gotta quit watching that show,” he muttered. “It fucks you up.”

  “Because I’m Rebecca!” sh
e yelled. “And you’re Jack! We’re the best together. We’re a unit. We come as one. We’re Deacon and Cassidy. We’re just a we. You can’t have one be a we. You lose one, you lose everything. We wouldn’t be called This Is Us if we lost you because there is no us without you.”

  That felt freaking phenomenal, but . . .

  Jesus Christ.

  “Cassie, baby—”

  “And our girls would be Kate and Kevin and Randall. They’d be all fucked up without their daddy. Forget it. In thirty years I’m not going to endure some hideous visit to a rehab center and have all our shit rolled out in front of some stony-faced counselor. No way! I couldn’t hold us together if we lost you. So you are totally getting my kidney!”

  “Okay, baby, I’ll take your kidney.”

  She glared at him then huffed out a breath. “Okay.”

  “All right,” he murmured.

  “All right,” she pushed out.

  “I’ll also give you another kid,” he went on.

  “Great,” she blew out.

  “I want another girl,” he told her.

  She shook her head. “You have to pass on the badass gene.”

  “Ruth is totally gonna be a badass.”

  That made her crack, though she hid it behind more boss. “You’re giving me a boy.”

  “’Fraid you can’t boss that into being, baby. We’re just gonna have to take what we get.”

  She stared at him.

  Then she stated, “You’re it, Deacon. You’re the reason I breathe. You’re my husband. I was put on this earth for you. I can’t exist on this earth without you.”

  He slid his thumb over her cheekbone. “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s true. I know how much you love me, but I’m not sure you have any clue how much I love you.”

  “Considering you threw a hissy fit to give me a kidney I don’t need, I think I caught on,” he replied.

  “Don’t joke,” she bit out.

  “I’m not,” he returned.

  She studied him.

  Then she lifted her hand to his at her face, curled her fingers around and turned her head to kiss his palm.

  Deacon drew in a breath.

  Then he let it out.

  The breath in was Cassie.

  And the breath out was still Cassie.

  Because she’d resurrected him.

  And also because she loved him just as good as she got, and from him, she got everything.

  She turned to face him again but held his hand against her skin.