by Cindy Kirk
“I got some good ones,” Katie Ruth called out. “I’ll get more when the kids trick-or-treat.”
Cassie pulled back on the bills, relieved when Krew released his hold.
He set Axl down and started to turn away.
The little boy had other ideas. He clamped those scissorhands around Krew’s leg and held on tight.
“You come.”
The demanding tone had Cassie’s brows shooting up.
“Axl. Let go of Mr. Slattery right now.” Her attempt to grab her son’s arm only ended in him clinging more fiercely to Krew.
“The boy clearly wants the two of you to take him trick-or-treating.” Gladys’s voice scraped against Cassie’s last nerve. “You’ll join them, won’t you, Krew? It will give Katie Ruth a chance to get more pictures.”
No. No. No, the voice in Cassie’s head screamed.
Axl had been looking forward to going door-to-door in the Living Center since he’d gotten up that morning.
But to spend this extra time with Krew, well, it wouldn’t be worth it.
“While on the surface, having Krew go with us may sound like a good idea, I have concerns.” Cassie could have cheered when her voice came out casual and offhand, just as she’d intended.
Gladys arched a dark brow. “What concerns would those be?”
“Krew was the final-round judge.” Cassie offered a bright smile. “Axl won the contest. Wouldn’t it look odd for the judge to be with the winner and his mother?”
Krew merely continued to stare at Cassie with hooded eyes.
For a second, Gladys appeared nonplussed, as though she’d never considered the ramifications.
Katie Ruth laughed, drawing everyone’s eyes.
Cassie was surprised to see her still standing there. She’d been so focused on her son and Krew, and then on Gladys, she hadn’t given Katie Ruth a second thought.
“Something funny?” Gladys’s tone made it clear she didn’t appreciate the levity.
Katie Ruth rolled her eyes. “It’s just that no one is going to think that Krew would be interested in Cassie.”
Cassie’s cheeks burned.
Krew opened his mouth, but Katie Ruth quickly said, “Oh! I-I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” The words tumbled out, one after the other, as if she couldn’t get them out fast enough. “It’s just that Krew is this super-hot, former football player, and—”
Katie Ruth clapped a hand over her mouth as if realizing she was digging herself into a deeper hole.
“I think you best stop right there,” Gladys advised Katie Ruth—not unkindly—before refocusing on Cassie. “Your concern is noted, my dear. I appreciate you thinking about the contest. But Katie Ruth will merely say that Krew accompanied the winning child on his search for candy, or something to that effect.”
Gladys smiled at Krew. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
Protesting any more would be pointless, Cassie realized. When Gladys got something in her head, there was no changing it. Still, she’d had to try. Forcing a smile, Cassie gave a nod. “Time to trick-or-treat, Axl.”
On their way to one of the long halls that led to the independent apartments, Katie Ruth touched Cassie’s arm.
“I’m sorry, Cassie. It sounded like a slam against you, but it really—”
“I understand.” It was a good thing Cassie had years of experience with such comments. The put-down, unintended or otherwise, had barely nicked the armor she’d developed over the years.
“I consider us friends. I don’t want you—”
“Drop it, Katie Ruth.” Krew’s authoritative tone had the blonde glancing at him in surprise. “You offered your apology. Move on.”
If it had been anyone else, Cassie would have shot him a grateful smile. Everyone knew that once Katie Ruth got going, it was difficult to shut her up. Cassie had been envisioning having to listen to her apologize for the next fifteen minutes.
Instead, Cassie focused on her son, crouching beside him when they reached the first door. “What do you say?”
“Trick or treat.” The boy gave her a sweet smile, and it was all she could do not to pull him into her arms and hold him tight.
“Very good.” Conscious of Krew’s eyes on her, she kept her gaze fixed on her son. “And what do you say when they put candy in your plastic pumpkin?”
“Thank you.”
“Good boy.” She stood, startled to see that Gladys was nowhere in sight. “Where’s Gladys?”
“She said something about heading to her apartment.” Katie Ruth smiled. “I think everyone is excited about having the kids come by.”
Cassie wished Gladys had stayed. She would have been one more person between her and Krew.
After several minutes, she realized she needn’t have worried. The focus was on Axl.
The boy insisted Krew say “trick or treat” with him.
Katie Ruth stayed in the background, snapping pictures.
For not the first time in her life, Cassie felt as if she was on the outside looking in. Her only reason for being with the group was that she was Axl’s mother.
“We’re coming up on Gladys’s apartment,” Katie Ruth announced. “I want to get a picture of all three of you at the door.”
“How do you know it’s hers?” Cassie asked.
“The elaborate decorations. I especially love the cobwebs at the top of the doorframe with the big spider.” Katie Ruth grinned. “Also, her name is on the door.”
Cassie hung back until Katie Ruth, her face set in a mulish expression, motioned her forward.
Axl stood between her and Krew. When he smiled up at her, showing a mouthful of baby teeth, Cassie felt herself settle.
“Trick or treat,” the three of them said in unison as the door opened.
Gladys, still wearing her witch’s garb, cackled. “What do we have here? A little boy? I love to eat little boys.”
Instead of cowering, Axl squealed with delight and thrust his plastic pumpkin forward. “Trick or treat.”
Gladys’s face softened. “Is it candy you want?”
The little boy nodded vigorously.
“You have one or two brothers at home?” she asked Axl.
Axl held up two fingers.
Gladys pulled four large Hershey bars out of her pocket. “I have one here for you and each of your brothers, as well as your mother. You’ll share with them.”
It was a command, not a question.
The child nodded solemnly as she dropped the chocolate bars into his pumpkin.
“If I’m remembering correctly, Mr. Slattery, the big Snickers bars were always your favorite.” Gladys slid her hand into another pocket hidden deep within the folds of her skirt and pulled out a giant Snickers. “Go ahead. Take it. You didn’t use to be so shy.”
When Krew still hesitated, Gladys pushed it into his hands.
“Thank you.”
There was a roughness to his voice, and his eyes seemed to glow with an intensity that Cassie couldn’t identify.
Gladys nodded, her eyes seeming to hold their own mystery. “You’re very welcome.”
Krew waited until Katie Ruth pulled Axl aside to take some additional pictures of the boy in his prize-winning costume. Finding the opportunity to speak with Cassie alone had become increasingly difficult. Seeing the opportunity, he seized it.
“I need to apologize.” He kept his tone low.
Cassie arched a brow. “For what?”
“For what happened at the wedding reception. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He continued, not giving her time to respond, wanting to get it all out before she shut him down. “I have no interest in Dakota. I’d never date a child, and yes, I think nineteen is still a child.”
Cassie gave a cautious nod.
“We need to talk.” He glanced around. “We’re almost through here. We could—”
“No.” She shook her head as if wanting to further emphasize the response. “I’ve told you before. We have nothing to say to each other. Now
, if you’ll excuse me, it looks like Katie Ruth is done with my son.”
Krew clenched his hand as frustration bubbled up inside him. He’d wanted to talk with Cassie before he went to Dakota, but she’d left him no choice.
It was time to speak with Dakota.
Chapter Four
Krew paced the sidewalk and kept his eye on the entrance to Muddy Boots. He’d discovered Dakota got off work today at three. He hoped she didn’t have to work over because this would be his best opportunity to speak with her.
Shortly after three thirty, he spotted her leaving the cafe. Slowing his steps, he managed to have their paths cross in front of Blooms Bake Shop.
“Krew.” A smile blossomed on her face. “How are you?”
“Good.” He kept his tone casual. “I was hoping I’d run into you. Do you have time for a quick walk?”
Suspicion colored her amber eyes. “Look, Krew, I know you’re a famous athlete, but I’m going to tell you straight up that I’m not the kind of girl who cares about stuff like that. I’m flattered by the attention, but you’re too old for me. I’m not interested in you like that. I don’t want to be rude, but I do want to be clear.”
Relief washed over Krew. “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me to hear you say that.”
Dakota stared, nonplussed. “Then what do you want with me?”
“Please.” He held up his hands. “Give me ten minutes.”
She gestured with her head. “There’s a park not far. We can talk there.”
Krew kept the conversation light as they trudged through a light mist to the park and took a seat on one of the benches.
Push forward.
Those two words had been his mantra before any sports trainer or coach had spoken to him about the keys to motivation. Because of his background, he couldn’t wait for things to happen, he had to make them happen.
“I don’t know if you recall the first time I saw you.”
She pulled her dark brows together. “Was it at Muddy Boots?”
He nodded, pleased that she remembered. “I was there with my sister, Tessa, and her husband.”
“Owen was with you, too.”
“That’s right.”
“The other waitresses were kidding me. They said you couldn’t stop looking at me.” Dakota rolled her eyes. “I told them they were crazy.”
“Actually, I couldn’t.” Before she could speak, he continued. “But not for the reason you might be thinking. I mean, you’re an attractive young woman, but—”
“I’m way too young for you.” Dakota chuckled. “You could be my dad.”
Krew couldn’t believe it. The perfect segue had just been dropped into his lap. “Yes. And…actually…I think I may be.”
Dakota started to laugh, but quickly sobered when she saw he wasn’t joining in. Those amber eyes, so like his own, studied him. “Are you serious?”
“I am.”
“Wait. What? Why do you think that? I mean, is it even possible that you could be my dad?”
Krew nodded slowly. “Yes.”
When she chewed on her bottom lip, she looked even younger. “So, you and my mom—”
“Yes.”
She straightened on the bench. “She said she doesn’t know who my father is. Now you’re telling me it’s you?”
“I believe it could be me.” With fingers that shook slightly, Krew pulled out the DNA test kit from his pocket. He passed it to her. “That’s why I want you to give a sample. That way, we can know for sure.”
Dakota took the kit, but didn’t glance at it.
“Okay, wait a minute. Why now? If you thought I was your daughter, if there was any possibility, why didn’t you show up before?” Her chin jutted up, and anger warred with pain in her words. “My life has been hard. Very hard sometimes. Having a father might have made a difference.”
“Because I didn’t know before.” He folded his hands casually in his lap to still their shaking. “But when I saw you at Muddy Boots, well, you could have been my sister’s clone at that age. Only her hair was short, and you’re much taller. I—”
When Dakota raised her hand, he stopped and watched her visibly fight for control. “Did my mother tell you she thinks you may be my father?”
Score one for the direct question.
Krew didn’t want to lie, but he didn’t know what Cassie had told Dakota about that night. He certainly didn’t want to add to Cassie’s burden. Well, more than he already was by talking to Dakota about this before discussing it with Cassie. But if Cassie hadn’t kept blowing him off, he’d have told her first.
“It’s a complicated situation. That’s a question I’d prefer you ask your mother.”
Dakota surged to her feet, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her breath coming in little puffs. “Really? Ask my mother? Did you ask my mother if you could accost me on the street and drop this bomb on me?” Raw anger and pain poured from her. “The only thing my mother would tell me, the only thing she’s ever told me, is she doesn’t know.”
He hesitated.
“If you had doubts back then, you could have taken a test that would have told you for sure.” Dakota’s voice shook, but he admired her control. “I needed you back then. I needed a father.”
The tears welling in the girl’s eyes spilled down her cheeks.
Shame flooded Krew. If he’d followed up to see if the baby Cassie had carried was his—instead of assuming it wasn’t because she didn’t tell him any different—he could have been there for her and for his daughter.
His heart twisted. He and his sister had never had a father, though the man responsible for their conception had lived under the same roof and had drunk himself into a stupor every night. Tessa still carried the pain of that lack of parental caring with her.
Krew stood, wanting to take Dakota into his arms and comfort her, but not sure he had the right.
He took a step toward her as she silently cried. When she didn’t move away, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Dakota’s head dropped to his chest as her body shook with sobs.
Krew didn’t say anything, didn’t do anything other than hold her. Regret filled him as he thought of all the years they’d missed.
After several long moments, she pushed back, sniffling and swiping at her reddened eyes.
“I’ll do the test.” She expelled a shaky breath, but her voice was surprisingly strong. “How long will it take to get the results?”
“I’ll have them rushed. Two working days is what I was quoted. We can view the results online.” He swiped a hand over his own eyes. “We should know for sure by the end of the week.”
Dakota blinked back more tears and used the cheek swab he handed her before she headed to the sidewalk.
Krew fell into step beside her. “I know this is a lot to take in. I can give you a ride back to your mom’s house.”
“I don’t live with Mom. I’ve been staying with my grandmother.”
“How come?” If Anita Fishback was the same as she’d been when Krew was in high school, he couldn’t imagine anyone choosing to live with her over Cassie.
“Mom’s house has bad memories. Axl’s father…” She hesitated for only a moment before continuing. “Do you remember Clint Gourley?”
“Clint and Clive,” Krew drawled the names, unable to hide his disgust. He remembered the Gourley brothers. They’d lived down the street from him growing up. Punk-ass kids who thought they were hot stuff. Mean SOBs, both of them.
“Clint is Axl’s father.” Dakota’s lips tightened. “He used to live with my mom.”
Krew couldn’t hide his surprise. It was difficult to imagine Cassie with such a man.
“That is,” Dakota continued, “before she kicked him out. He’s in prison now.”
Owen had mentioned something about Clint serving time. “For burglary?”
She nodded. A hard look filled her eyes, and a shroud of darkness settled over her face. “I hope he rots there.”
The guys on his team had always laughed and said he was slow to anger, but when he did get mad, watch out. Krew laid his hands on Dakota’s shoulders, not sure he wanted to hear the answer, but unable to stop himself from asking for the truth. “Did he hurt you, Dakota?”
Krew couldn’t ask the question any other way. Couldn’t bring himself to ask if Clint had touched her or forced himself on her.
“He would have.” Her tone was surprisingly matter-of-fact. “I made sure he didn’t get the chance.”
Krew expelled the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Thank God.”
She’d turned from him for a few seconds. When she looked up again, the pain and hurt in her eyes tore at his heart.
His anger surged. Guys like Clint were everywhere. They preyed on the weak and the vulnerable, or anyone they could physically overpower. With bottom-feeders like him, it was all about control.
Clint Gourley, he thought, should count himself lucky he was behind bars. While Krew wasn’t a violent man, he protected his own. If Clint ever got out, Krew would make it clear he’d better keep his distance from Dakota.
If he didn’t, Krew would beat the living shit out of him.
Dakota might not have had a dad for the first nineteen years of her life, but if the DNA test confirmed his suspicions, she’d have one now.
Chapter Five
“Here’s your Arnold Palmer.” Dakota set the glass of tea mixed with lemonade in front of Gladys. Though the drink wasn’t on the Muddy Boots menu, she’d been happy to make it for the older woman.
“You’re a dear.” Gladys pressed a five-dollar bill into her hand. “For your trouble.”
Dakota’s eyes widened. “You don’t need to give me this. I was happy to help.”
When the girl attempted to hand the bill back, Gladys shook her head and forced a firm tone. “I want you to have it.”
At ninety-seven, Gladys had no worries about outliving her money. If she could scatter a little joy, so be it.
“You have the prettiest eyes.” Gladys effectively stopped the start of the girl’s protests with the compliment.