Playing With Fire

by Ruth Staunton

  “Decided to wait and have something to talk about,” he told her, taking his drink from the returning waitress and sipping it before plowing into his meal.

  “I’m the book keeper at Bowron’s,” Stacy said, confirming what he already knew. “You know, the trailer place.”

  Cade nodded. He was indeed familiar with them. “How long have you been doing that?” he asked, playfully snatching a fry from Stacy’s plate.

  “Hey!” Stacy protested, laughing. Cade simply grinned mischievously. Stacy sighed, shaking her head before continuing, “Seems like I’ve been there forever, only job I’ve ever had.”

  “Ever since college?” Cade questioned, pushing his plate toward Stacy in invitation.

  “Never went to college,” Stacy said quietly, toying with her food, “just a few accounting classes at the tech school.”

  If she thought that would bother Cade, she was sadly mistaken. He didn’t even give it a second thought. “I went into the Marines right out of high school.”

  Stacy couldn’t suppress the laugh that bubbled forth. “Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” Cade shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “It’s not a bad thing,” Stacy continued quickly. “It suits you.”

  “Does it?” Cade questioned. He’d thought so too once. When he was young and green, he’d fancied himself a career Marine. And then Gary…

  “Oh yeah,” Stacy was saying, looking him up and down.

  Cade grabbed his glass and drained it, desperate to anchor himself in the present. “How so?” he asked, setting down his empty glass.

  “Just does,” Stacy said, “you’ve got that whole protector vibe going on.”

  “You think so?” Cade asked, amused, slurping his soda and signaling for a refill.

  “Oh please,” Stacy said, sounding very much like the teenager Cade had thought her to be. “You’re practically glowing with it.” Though she would have never admitted it, it was that very protective vibe that had drawn Stacy to him from the moment she’d first seen him in the bar. She’d had her fill of wimpy men, and, deep down, she knew it.

  Cade, for his part, couldn’t imagine being any other way. Protecting those in need of it was what a man did, especially when it came to women. He didn’t often say that out loud. It wasn’t exactly politically correct, and Cade had found that most folks now days misunderstood it. He wasn’t some Neanderthal who thought all women were harebrained and helpless. Quite the contrary, he had three accomplished and independent younger sisters, any one of whom wouldn’t hesitate to put him in his place. But, dammit, there were some things a man just ought to do. “Guess it was the way I was raised,” he said finally.

  “Really?” Stacy asked, genuinely curious.

  Cade nodded. “My dad took good care of my mom. He was a good example of how to treat people.” In fact, he often thought he couldn’t have asked for a better model than his dad. Right up to the moment his dad took his last breath, Cade never saw him treat his mom with anything but the upmost respect, and God help anybody in his dad’s vicinity who dared treat her otherwise. At the same time, his dad had always been the unquestionable head of the household, and all of them, including his mom, knew it.

  “Cool,” Stacy said, meaning it.

  “What about your family?” Cade wondered

  “It’s just me and my parents,” Stacy replied, though more often than not it had been just her, alone with a seemingly endless stream of nannies and babysitters.

  “No siblings?” Cade teased. “Had all their attention, huh?”

  “Not really,” Stacy said quietly. “They were busy people.” Busy was an understatement. They’d started a realty company when Stacy was only a toddler, and it had consumed them, leaving her far behind, alone.

  Sensing he was treading into dangerous ground Cade dropped the subject quickly and called for the waitress. “Do you want dessert?”

  “As tempting as Mary’s pie is, I don’t think I could stand another bite,” Stacy said. “You?”

  “No,” Cade answered, asking for the check. “Do you want to go for a walk?” he asked impulsively. It was early yet, and much to his surprise, he found himself reluctant to take her home. He was honestly enjoying her company.

  “Sure,” Stacy answered, heading for the door. Cade paid the check quickly and followed.

  Outside, the dark night hung thick and heavy. Though the sun had long since been overtaken by a bright summer moon, the heat and humidity remained swirling around them like a warm slow river. From Mary’s, they headed slowly down the sidewalk flanking Mcloud’s main street. The street was virtually empty save for random carloads of teenagers passing the summer evening by cruising the town, much as Stacy remembered doing herself.

  “So where did you grow up?” she asked suddenly, turning to Cade.

  “Me?” Cade replied, “Virginia.”

  “Virginia,” Stacy repeated. “How on Earth did somebody who grew up in Virginia end up in McCloud, Texas of all places?”

  “My godson,” Cade said softly. “I promised my best friend I’d take care of his boy.”

  “Did something happen?” Stacy asked quietly.

  Cade nodded. “Gary died before Nicky turned a year old, and after a while, I just felt like I needed to spend more time with Nick so I came to where they are.”

  “I’m sorry,” Stacy said, unconsciously drawing closer to him. She remembered him watching the little boy on the red bicycle earlier today. She’d thought nothing of it at the time, but now, vaguely remembering some neighborhood gossip about the boy’s daddy having been killed overseas somewhere, she realized the child must have been Nicky.

  Cade gave a small smile. “Don’t be sorry. It’s worked out for the best. I’m happy here.” That was true enough, and quite frankly, he was surprised he’d even told her about Gary. It wasn’t something he usually did. Usually when people asked, he simply told them he’d been ready for a change, which was equally true, and left it at that, but somehow, with Stacy, the whole story had come tumbling forth.

  “I’m glad,” Stacy told him. Somewhat surprisingly, she found herself enjoying this evening tremendously. “You’ll have to bring Nicky around sometime. I’d like to meet him.”

  Cade looked surprised. “You sure about that? Don’t get me wrong I’m happy you’d want to include him, and I love Nick to death, but he’s a nine-year-old boy. He’s kind of a handful.”

  Stacy grinned slyly. “Sounds like he’s right up my alley. After all, I’m kind of a handful myself.”

  They’d circled around and made it back to the truck by now. Cade chuckled as he helped Stacy in. “That you are little girl. That you are.”

  The chuckle turned into an all out laugh when Stacy screeched, “I am NOT a little girl.” Cade just shot her a knowing look, closed her door, and walked around to climb into the driver’s side without a word.

  The ride back to Stacy’s passed too quickly for either of them. They found themselves sitting idly in the truck in Stacy’s yard, neither knowing what to say, but not wanting to go either. “Do you want to come in?” Stacy asked finally. She cursed the hesitancy she heard in her voice. What the hell was she so nervous about? With any other man it wouldn’t have even been an issue. Hell, they would have been in her house–and in her bed–long before now, but with Cade, everything was different.

  “I’d like that,” Cade said quietly. He’d wanted her since the first moment he laid eyes on her. There was no denying that, but he couldn’t do that to her. He’d been watching her tonight, and it was rapidly becoming apparent that no man had ever treated her with anything near the respect Cade expected. He hadn’t missed her surprise that he opened doors, or paid the check. Stacy wasn’t used to being treated with genuine respect, but he’d be damned if he’d treat her with anything less, no matter his body thought of the idea. “But I’d better not,” he finished quietly.

  “Ok,” Stacy said, both surprised and disappointed.

  That seemed to break the spell that had stretched
between them. Cade came around and opened her door then insisted on seeing her in despite the fact that there couldn’t have been more that twenty feet between her and the door.

  “Oh for crying out loud, Cade. It’s not like some mad man can attack me between here and the door,” Stacy fumed. Really, she liked his protective streak, but this was a little ridiculous. “This is McCloud, after all.”

  “I was taught to always see a lady to her door,” Cade replied. “I don’t intend to stop doing that now.”

  Stacy rolled her eyes. “You are the most stubborn man…”

  Cade laughed. “Hello, pot, my name is kettle pleased to meet you.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Stacy muttered, making Cade laugh even harder. “And to think I was actually thinking I’d enjoyed tonight,” she went on, fishing in her pocket for her keys.

  “I’m glad,” Cade said, “so did I.” Stacy stopped and turned back as though she were about to say something but then fell silent.

  Unable to resist, Cade reached out, cupped the back of her head, and kissed her, hard. It was like lighting a match. Stacy responded instantly, with a fire that threatened to consume them both. With obvious effort, Cade broke away, feeling light-headed and breathless. He touched her cheek gently then turned to go. “I’ll call you,” he said, taking the steps two at a time.

  Stacy nodded mutely, unable to speak through the haze. Then, a moment later a thought occurred to her, jolting her to action. “Hey lawman,” she called, “how are you gonna call me without my–”

  Cade stopped in the yard, rattling out her phone number before she could finish the sentence. “Trained investigator, remember,” he said, turning to grin at her, and then he was gone.

  Chapter 3

  Two days later, Cade still hadn’t surfaced again, and Stacey was pissed. No, she was beyond pissed. At Cade–why didn’t he just call anyway, dammit–but even more at herself. Why did it matter whether he called? Hell, she could just go back to Joe’s and pick up another guy anyway. There’d never been any shortage of men before now. Why should now be any different? Except… Even as the thought crossed her mind, Cade’s voice echoed through her head smug and haunting as a ghostly whisper.

  “Please, kid, you couldn’t stay put if you had to. You’d go stir crazy and run for the hills inside of a month.”

  Furious, Stacey threw the pen she was holding onto her desk. Damn Cade Dawson and his stupid dare anyway. Grabbing up the file she’d been working on, she shoved it into a drawer and slammed the drawer shut, hard enough to rattle her desk and send coffee sloshing all over everything on it. Cursing fluently, Stacey jumped up and stormed out to grab paper towels from the tiny counter that served as their makeshift break room. Just then, the bell above the outer door tinkled, signaling the arrival of a customer. Stacey choked back the stream of curses, groaning inwardly. Just her luck, the place had been quiet as a grave all day and now…

  “Be right with you,” Stacey called. She grabbed up the roll of paper towels and plastered a smile on her face. “How can I help,” she began and stopped dead at the sight of Cade standing in front of her desk. Biting back the smile that wanted to bubble forth, she crossed her arms and glared at him instead.

  Cade merely lifted an eyebrow. “I thought I told you to watch your mouth.”

  “And I thought you were going to call me,” Stacey countered hotly.

  Cade shrugged. “Decided I’d just drop by instead,” he said, not bothered by her temper in the least. “Thought I’d see if you had plans for dinner.”

  “Oh you did, did you?” Stacey said, spitting out the words like sharp-tipped glass. “You tell me you’ll call then you disappear for two days without a word, and now you have the nerve to come strolling in here talking about dinner without so much as a how-do-you-do…”

  Cade raked a hand through his hair. “It’s been a crazy couple days, Stace; if you’re busy, just say so. I just thought…”

  “Oh I know what you thought,” Stacey spat. “You thought I’d be here waiting at your beck and call.”

  “No,” Cade shot back, rapidly losing his grip on his temper. “I thought after having two days from hell, it might be fun to go out again. I came in here for a break, not to be subjected to a temper tantrum.”

  “Temper tantrum,” Stacey sputtered. “I’ll show you a temper tantrum.” Incensed beyond words, she picked up a plastic note cube off her desk and flung it at him.

  Military training had Cade ducking without conscious thought. The cube sailed over his head into the wall behind him and sent a framed business license crashing to the floor. The crash was enough to make Cade wince but Stacey barely noticed. She simply picked up the next available projectile, a small round paperweight, and tried again. This time Cade caught it in mid-air and stepped forward to grab Stacey’s arms before she could throw anything else. “Stop,” he said firmly. He caught both her wrists in his hand and held them still.

  “Let go of me,” Stacey demanded, jerking around like a wild thing.

  “Stop,” Cade repeated. “Calm down and I’ll let you go.”

  “Calm down,” Stacey shrieked. “Who the hell do you think you are telling me to calm down? I’ll calm down when–”

  “I mean it Anastasia,” Cade broke in. “Stop this or I will stop you.”

  “Yeah, right,” Stacey scoffed, “you and whose –” She broke off abruptly, mouth gaping open as Cade reached out with his free hand and smacked her backside, hard. Stacey jerked her head up and stared at him, outraged. “You hit me,” she sputtered.

  “No,” Cade explained calmly, “I swatted your bottom to get your attention. I’d never hit you, but if you don’t calm down, I will swat you again.”

  “Like hell you will,” Stacey flared, renewing her struggles. “Get your hands off of me, you sonofa–”

  Cade didn’t give her a chance to finish. He reached out without a word and swatted her again, this time landing several smacks in quick succession.

  Utterly shocked, Stacey went totally still. Her mind was whirling, her bottom stung, and she had no idea what had just happened. She opened her mouth, fully intending to rip Cade a new one, but somehow she couldn’t find the words. All the fire, the fury, was gone.

  “Are you going to stop now?” Cade asked quietly. Stacey nodded mutely. Cade released her hands and stepped back, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Without realizing it, Stacey let her hands drift back, covering her stinging bottom.

  “You hit me,” Stacey repeated, quietly this time. Even to her own ears, she sounded shaky and young, and she hated it.

  “No, sweetheart,” Cade said, gentle now, “I spanked you. There’s a difference.”

  “Doesn’t seem so to me,” Stacey muttered.

  “No?” Cade asked.

  Stacey bit her lip. She didn’t know what to say, to do, hell, to think. Everything inside her was whirling in a fury and damned if she knew what to do about it.

  “Stace,” Cade said, and she could hear the worry in his voice. She wanted to look up, to grin, to blow it off with some flippant flirty comment, but she couldn’t. She’d done it a million times, in a million different situations, with God knew how many different men, but now, the words wouldn’t come. Worse yet, she was desperately afraid if she opened her mouth she’d make and utter fool of herself and cry.

  Cade reached out and tipped her chin up with a finger. “We need to talk about this,” he told her, “but now isn’t the time or the place.” Stacey nodded. “You get off at five?” Again, she nodded. “Ok,” Cade went on, “I’ll run by Mary’s and pick us up dinner about six. I’ll come by your place, and we can talk about this, or if by then you’ve decided I really did hurt you, you don’t have to let me in. I’ll go on my way and never bother you again.” He was gone before she had a chance to answer.

  The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. If asked, Stacey doubted she could have said what she’d done or truthfully, even how she got home. What had happened with Cade consumed her, replaying over
and over in her head like a football game stuck on instant replay. He had hit her, dammit. She should be furious. She should be tossing him out on his ear and filing assault charges on his Neanderthal ass. This wasn’t the dark ages, for crying out loud.

  But she wasn’t.

  Instead, she was sitting on her front steps watching Rufus running around the yard like a fiend and waiting for Cade to show up, and for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why.

  Everything she believed said she should be angry, furious even, but when she thought back on it, it wasn’t anger she felt. Shock, yes, and some initial outrage, but no real anger. There was no way in hell she’d ever admit it, but in truth she was ashamed. She’d behaved like a spoiled toddler, and he’d treated her accordingly.

  Even now she squirmed, blushing, feeling the sting still, though the physical sensation had long since faded. He’d drawn a line in the sand in a very real way, and she’d crossed it, just as she’d crossed nearly every other boundary she’d been presented with in her life, but unlike everyone else in her life, he hadn’t been content to let her go crashing through, shaking his head in exasperation. Cade said no, firmly, clearly, and he was prepared to back it up. It was a new and novel concept, but not outrageous. In fact, deep down, she suspected she might even like it a little.

  Rufus suddenly stopped running, sat back on his haunches, and started barking and howling like mad. Moments later, there was a crunch of gravel as Cade pulled his truck into the drive.

  Stacey stood but didn’t move, not sure what to say or do. Cade seemed just as uncertain, watching her for a long moment before he finally spoke. “Well, Stace,” he asked, leaning through the open truck window, “can I come in or should I just throw out the food and run for my life.” He said it with a grin, tossing it out jokingly, but they both knew the choice she was making was no joke.

  Stacey cocked her head, considering. On another day, Cade might have found the gesture comical, reminiscent of Rufus, but today he didn’t even notice. He was too focused on Stacey. He’d felt like a walking whirlwind all afternoon, going from kicking himself for spanking her one minute to resigning himself that it was for the best the next. Like he’d told Stacey before, he was an old-fashioned kind of guy. He believed in spanking, and it was just as well Stacey knew that now. Cade sighed. Yes, he believed in spanking, but not like that. Not out of the blue and not without consent. Dammit, why wouldn’t she just say something?