by J. M. Madden
He smiled a little playfully. “I did too, Miss Cassandra.”
Cass waited a moment, hoping he would ask her out, or over for coffee or something, but he didn’t. Instead he slid off the stool and reached for the weather gear on the stool beside him. Cass stepped off as well and looped her scarf around her neck, trying not to show her disappointment. When she reached for her coat, he already stood behind her, holding it out. With a little thrill, she reached her arms into the coat and turned to face him, her heart hammering with anticipation. He stood a few inches over six feet, the perfect kissing height.
They were inches apart and for a brief moment he looked like he wanted to lower his head and kiss her, then he blinked, clamped his square jaw and pulled away.
“I’ll walk you out.”
Cass gritted her teeth. She’d seen that flash of interest in his eyes a couple of times tonight. What the hell did she need to do to get him to commit to something, even something as simple as a kiss?
Then it hit her. Maybe he wouldn’t kiss her. Maybe she’d misread everything and this was a goodbye walk.
They each had their insecurities, that much was obvious.
Cass said her goodbyes to the nice women she’d met and walked out of the restaurant, Roger on her heels. She could feel his gaze on her and as she stepped off the curb to the parking lot, he was there to offer her his elbow.
He’d given her his real arm. She tightened her hand on his elbow and thought about leaning her head on his shoulder as they walked into the snow, but she didn’t let herself do that. This was going to be the big brush-off scene, she’d played it out before.
She pointed out her car and they moved toward it. At one point she slipped a little, but he tightened his arm and braced to hold her.
“You okay, baby?”
Her heart clenching from the words more than the threat of a painful fall, Cass wanted to turn to him and wrap her arms around him. He had done absolutely everything right. He’d been more solicitous of her than any other man ever had. There was an aching sadness to him that she wanted to make better. Even as he smiled at her through the falling flakes, he seemed… overwhelmed by life. Sad. As if what he wanted was too far out of his reach.
Was she actually seeing that or was she seeing what she wanted to see?
This was so frustrating. Maybe she just needed to lay it out there.
“Roger, I want to see you again.”
Cass didn’t even realize she’d spoken until his eyes widened. Then, with a sad smile, he shook his head. “I’ll follow you home to make sure you get there okay, but that’s all, Cassandra. That’s all I can give you tonight.”
Reaching up, she ran her fingers down his cheek, then down the scarred side of his neck, feeling the texture of the old hurt. He didn’t move, but she could feel him withdraw emotionally. Then he stepped back from her and she let her fingers fall to her side.
She’d known this man exactly one evening, just a few hours. She’d never behaved this way with another man in her life, but she feared that if she let him go tonight she wouldn’t see him again.
Everything she had in her life now was because she’d dared to reach for it. So, following her instincts, she cupped Roger’s neck in her hand and drew him down toward her. Their lips met with the slightest brush, then another. Cass inhaled against his mouth, angled her head then sealed her lips against his.
Now, if he’d truly been against the kiss, he would have drawn away, but he didn’t. For a timeless moment, she feared that she would be the only one involved, because he didn’t move for such a terribly long time. It was probably only a couple of seconds but it felt like so much more. Then, suddenly, he cupped her face in his hands.
Cass had kissed many frogs in her life, but every single asshole with hurtful hands and nauseating breath and bring-you-down-drama went out of her mind just then. Roger made her heart race. Tingles shot down her body and she dared to reach for his shoulders to hold on. She didn’t want to leave his delicious mouth.
But he jerked away. Not just away from her mouth but completely away from her body.
Cass blinked her eyes open in shock, wondering what she’d done wrong.
“Are you okay?” she asked, voice breathless.
He blinked at her, his expressive eyes hidden by the shadows cast by the parking lot security light. “Yes, I’m fine,” he told her voice gruff. “You should get home, though. It’s getting late.”
Frowning, she tried to read his face but he seemed to be deliberately averting it from her. She turned away with a huff, tears filling her eyes. But she would not let them fall. “Sorry I wasted your time tonight, Roger.”
Without another word she slipped into her Hyundai and pulled the seatbelt across her lap. The car started, after a slight hesitation. Making sure he’d moved away, she backed out of the parking space and left the restaurant parking lot.
Chapter 2
Roger’s heart was thudding in his chest, and it wasn’t something he was comfortable with or had ever expected. Cassandra Jones had just rocked his world with a simple kiss.
For the life of him though, he couldn’t tell if she was did it because she wanted to or because she felt sorry for him. He felt like they’d clicked in the bar, but it had been so long since he’d had any real interaction with women.
Almost all of his buddies around him had found that significant other. Was he hoping there was more to this attraction?
The first woman he’d been with after he’d gotten home from surgical rehab had felt sorry for him. At the time he’d been so hard up for sex and confirmation that he could still perform like a man, he hadn’t cared. He’d left his shirt on and pounded her into orgasm after orgasm in the dark of the room. Later, thinking back on his actions, he decided he’d been motivated to prove to her how much of a man he was, even with only one arm. He’d seen the shiver go through her body, though, when he’d touched her with his prosthetic. And it hadn’t been a good shiver.
That had been several years ago, and he’d vowed not to be with another woman until he felt like she was the right one. The one woman who’d see him, Roger, not just the remains of his injuries.
With a sinking heart, he felt like the right one just drove out of the parking lot and he had let get go.
Tonight, Cassandra had shined a light into his barren heart. She’d teased him and enticed him into conversation, a little flirting even, and seemed to be a good-hearted soul. Her angel’s wings might be a little tattered, but she was stronger for it, and continued to move forward in life. He admired that. He admired her. He didn’t want this interaction with the rusty side of his social skills to make her stumble on the path to reaching her goals.
With a wince, he headed to his Jeep. Kicking it into four-wheel drive he followed the path she’d left in the snow. It wasn’t long until he caught up with her. She was driving very carefully along the streets, leaving herself plenty of braking room, but she was still skidding a little. The car would jerk occasionally on ice, then level out. In all honesty, though, she was driving like she actually had a brain in her head compared to the rest of the idiots out here. The snow hadn’t been coming down long, but there were already vehicles in ditches.
When she pulled up in front of a cookie cutter apartment block, he parked right behind her. Then he hesitated, gripping the steering wheel in indecision, he didn’t know what he was going to say, but she needed some kind of explanation for his strange behavior.
Unfortunately, when he climbed out of his Jeep she stood right there waiting for him. “Why the hell are you following me home? Do you think this is the first time I’ve ever driven in snow? I can guarantee you it’s not, I’ve lived in Denver my whole life.”
“I know you can,” he growled. “That’s not why I followed you. I needed to apologize.”
That set her back on her heels. “Oh,” she said quietly, crossing her arms. Her puffy blue coat seemed to make that a little hard to do, but she managed. Her breath huffed out in clouds in
the cold air. In the scant light from the parking lot, her eyes seemed red-rimmed and guarded. Cassandra had one of the strongest personalities he’d ever encountered. The thought that he’d upset her didn’t sit well with him. She deserved better.
The snow continued to fall, landing in her curly hair. Roger wanted to reach out and tug at those curls, but in this mood she’d probably slap his hand away.
“I’m sorry I didn’t respond to you the way I should have,” he told her after a few seconds.
She shrugged, burrowing her chin into the collar of the winter coat. “No skin off my nose.”
He sighed. “Are you always this defensive? Why won’t you let me talk?”
Her mouth snapped shut and she cocked her head at him, as if waiting.
“It’s been a very long time since I’ve been on any kind of date,” he told her finally. “Like, years. Years. I guarantee you that I used to be a very different man. You took me by surprise tonight.”
She seemed shocked at the admission. And even though the sentences were disjointed she seemed to understand what he was telling her.
“I’m sorry I rushed you then,” she said softly.
Roger looked out at the night, and the brightly twinkling Christmas lights around them. They were all alone on the street and the sounds of passing traffic were muffled. Snow covered the streets and houses and cars. Roger suddenly had a childhood memory of waking up and finding out that school had been cancelled. Time was passing, and he’d not realized how fast until tonight.
“I’m kind of glad you rushed me, actually,” he told her. “I think I needed it.”
He turned back to her and dared to take a step closer. “Did you kiss me because you felt sorry for me?”
Her face clouded with anger and impatience. “What?”
He held up his hand. “Never mind. Your response tells me what I wanted to know. I just don’t want to be some man you think needs to be pitied and coddled.”
Cassandra took a deep breath and glanced down at her feet. When she finally looked back up at him, there were tears glittering in her eyes, but her expression told him that she didn’t want pity either. “You know, we’re both defensive and cautious. For a minute I dared to hope that you were the nice, normal kind of guy I’ve always been looking for. I grew up on the streets, literally, I mean. Everything I have, I’ve worked my ass off for. But I got myself away from everything bad. Or at least, I’ve tried my damnedest to. Seems like the bad finds me, whether I want it to or not. You’re the first guy that doesn’t feel bad to me.”
Roger gave her a crooked smile, in spite of the wild emotions roiling up in his heart. “I’m a man, Cassandra. I’m liable to mess up here and there, but you never have to worry about your safety with me. I was raised better than that. My parents made sure to teach me to be a man that respects women, and I can tell you that I respect everything about you so far.”
Her throat tightened with emotion and her eyes teared up, but she didn’t let them fall. Roger reached out and brushed his thumbs down her cheeks. “I want another chance to kiss you, Cassandra. Can I do that?”
After a long, drawn out moment, she nodded, and he didn’t give her a chance to change her mind. Leaning down, his heart racing, he fit his lips to hers. He tasted the tears she finally let fall, and it made him sad, even as he thrilled to her touch. If he had it in his power, he wanted to make the sadness weighing both of them down go away.
Cassandra leaned into him and reached up to cup his face. And when he drew back enough to look at her, she smiled at him, her unique eyes now clear and determined. “I don’t know if it’s because of the Christmas spirit or what, but I want you to come home with me. Even if we just sit on the couch and talk, I don’t care. I just don’t want to break this spell yet.”
Roger felt the same way. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
He locked his vehicle and waited as she retrieved her purse and phone from her own car. Then, hand in hand, they walked along the snow-covered pavement to the entrance to her building. They climbed the steps to the second floor, and he held her purse as she unlocked the door to her apartment.
Roger couldn’t get enough of touching her. He helped her remove her coat and hung it on the wall next to the door, then slowly drew the scarf from around her neck. There was a satisfied smile on her face that he loved, and he wanted it to stay there all night just so that he could look at it. The tears were gone and he wanted them to stay gone.
“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked him eventually, when the silence stretched out. “I’m a little chilled and in the mood for hot chocolate.”
Roger grinned. “I haven’t had hot chocolate for years. That sounds perfect for tonight.”
Cassandra turned to walk away, and he allowed himself to watch her go. She was not a skinny woman, not by any means, and her body made him salivate. She had a body built to satisfy a man, with substantial hips and breasts that would spill over his hands. Roger wanted to explore her and find what made her happy, what made her giggle. He especially wanted to know what would make her cry out his name in pleasure. Just the thought made his body harden. He’d been fighting it all night, but every time she’d touched him his blood had heated.
It was too soon to be this attracted to her. He shook his head and tried to regain control of himself again.
“Make yourself at home,” she called to him from the kitchen.
Roger took her at her word and after kicking his boots off at the door, walked into her living room. The entire space wasn’t very big, looked to only be a single bedroom. Pretty spare but the furniture was well-made and clean. There was a small, two-foot Christmas tree on a table by the window. Not very big, but it glittered with lights and tinsel.
The tree made him sad, because it didn’t sound like she had any family around since her brother had died. She’d put the tree up in spite of the fact that no one would see it except her. Another important insight into her heart. She was hopeful. And she believed in Christmas spirit.
There was a wall of framed photos, dedicated to a young man, obviously her brother. Some of the pics were of earlier years, hanging out with friends, but as Roger moved across the wall the young man changed, and the focus of his life sharpened. There was a graduation picture in maroon cap and gown where he stood proudly holding up his diploma, Cass stood beside him beaming. Roger thought she looked just as proud as the young man.
There was another picture of him standing beside a sporty red car, keys in hand, pride shining in his young face. Then there were pictures of basic training. Looked like he had been sent to Ft. Leonard Wood in Missouri. And it looked like Andre had fit in well, from the story he read the pictures on the wall.
When young men left an urban environment, it was a real shock to the system to be thrust into the dirt and sweat and pain of basic training. Roger was glad that Andre had apparently done well.
At the end of the cluster of pictures were two that made his stomach clench in recognition of shared experiences he and Andre had each had, separate places, separate times but the same even so. They were of Andre in Afghanistan. In the first he was dismantling an M4 carbine, and laughing at someone out of camera view. He’d been a good-looking young man. Basic had slimmed him down and given his strong face definition.
In the second picture it took him a minute to find Andre, because he was standing with about ten other men in complete desert gear in front of a Humvee, weapons held loosely at their sides.
Roger had a picture very similar on his own wall. When you fought overseas like that, the men you fought with became your family. You wanted to commemorate those good times, to balance out the bad.
The date at the bottom of that last picture was a little over three years ago. It must have been taken just before Andre died. What a terrible loss.
Roger circled back around the room and sank down onto the comfortable looking couch. Oh, yeah, he could totally chill here.
Cassandra made little noises as sh
e worked, and he thought she might have been humming something. Pans clinked and water ran. Then he heard a refrigerator door open and close. He realized she was making the cocoa from scratch. Damn. Now that was dedication … and would be delicious.
Roger sighed as the couch wrapped around him, making his eyelids heavy. The anxiety and tension from anticipating the blind date and then the actual meet up faded away. He hadn’t realized how stressed he’d been.
The Christmas tree glittered, the only source of light in the room other than the glow from the kitchen.
He shut his eyes, just for a moment.
Cass peeked into the living room to ask him if he wanted some Bailey’s Irish Cream in his mug, but she caught herself. Roger had tipped his head against the back of the couch and appeared to be asleep.
“Roger,” she whispered.
He didn’t move.
She tried again, a little louder. “Roger?”
Nothing.
Damn! He’d fallen asleep on her couch? She’d only been in the kitchen a few minutes.
Grinning, she returned to the kitchen to shut off the stove. He wouldn’t be drinking any cocoa in the near future.
She was a little torn now though. Should she wake him up just kinda accidentally? Or should she just let him sleep?
Hmm. Maybe she’d just let him sleep. She moved to the kitchen window and looked out. Yeah, at the rate the snow was falling he probably should just hang out for a while. Both of their vehicles were covered now. He wouldn’t be going anywhere safely in the near future. A little thrill went through her at the thought of having him in her apartment longer.
Tiptoeing into the living room, she snagged her favorite fluffy blanket from the recliner. Being extra gentle, she draped it over his slumbering form.
Mmm, mmm, such a good-looking man. Tall and lean, his build strong and solid, he dressed like a man should. Cass knew it was creepy, but she just stood there, staring down at him for a few minutes. Then he snuffled in his sleep. She thought he would wake for a moment, but he turned his head and burrowed into the cushion of the couch.