by Susan Fox
He wanted Cassidy as his partner in life. But if that wasn’t what she wanted, he had to have the guts to let her fly free. The solo wild goose, the moonbeam he couldn’t hold in his hand.
He parked his Jeep at the back of the Wild Rose and, stomach in a knot, went up the stairs. Inside the apartment, he hung up his work jacket and pulled off his dirty work boots. Man, was he sweaty and grubby. Merlin greeted him, tail wagging happily. “Hey, pal, where’s—”
Cassidy answered his question by stepping through the kitchen door looking more tentative than eager. “Dinner’s ready—” she started to say just as Dave said, “I need a shower.” Then he said, “Sorry, what did you say?”
“I’m making baked chile rellenos. They’re ready to go in the oven.” She rubbed her hands on the faded jeans she wore below a blue Western shirt. Often when she came here she slipped into form-fitting yoga pants and a T-shirt in some interesting color. The fact that she hadn’t done so wasn’t a hopeful sign. “So you can go take a shower,” she said, “and I’ll—”
“Cassidy.” He strode toward her. Yeah, he should shower, but he had a more urgent need. “I have to know. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Her blue-gray eyes were soft, troubled. “I’m confused.” She toyed with the pendant that hung around her neck. He thought of a wild goose, deciding whether to take flight or to stay.
He nodded, forcing himself not to touch her cheek or kiss her. “Go on.”
“Dave, I do love you, but—”
“What?” Had she actually said that, or had wishful thinking made him imagine it?
Her lips curved, trembling. “I do. I didn’t really know what love was, and I wasn’t looking for it, but you made it pretty much impossible to not love you.”
“You love me?” Maybe he sounded like a dummy, but he had to be sure.
“I do.” She stated it firmly this time. “I love you, Dave Cousins.”
“My God.” He grabbed her in a big hug, hoisting her off the ground in his exuberant relief. “You love me!”
By now she was grinning, her eyes sparkling as he pressed his lips to her smiling mouth. She kissed him back; then her kiss turned urgent, almost desperate. Then she surprised him again by pulling back. “Let me down. That doesn’t answer anything.”
“Huh?” He lowered her. “I love you, you love me. That’s what’s important. We can work out the rest.”
“Maybe.” Her expression was solemn now. “Want to talk now, or take that shower?”
He glanced down, having momentarily forgotten how grubby he was. He’d rubbed off on her too; he flicked some dried dirt and grass from her shirt. “Shower with me.”
Her expression lightened. “You think you can use sex to persuade me?”
“I’ll give it a shot.” His very best shot.
The grin came back. “Fire away.”
He hoisted her into his arms—who cared if he got more dirt on her clothes?—and carried her toward the en suite bathroom. When she looped her arms around his neck, his heart clutched. Cassidy loved him. It was still sinking in, like the slow fire of good whisky burning through his veins. Combined with the euphoric fizz of champagne bubbles. Things had to work out.
After he lowered her onto the bath mat, he tugged open the snaps of her shirt and slid it off. Under it, she wore a skintight purple tank top, which he peeled over her head. No bra, just small, firm, beautiful breasts. She toed off her sheepskin slippers. He peeled her jeans and panties down her legs and she stepped out of them.
She was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. Slim and sleek with unmistakably feminine curves. Long, elegant neck with the pendant resting in the hollow at the base. Oval face framed by that elfin cap of midnight hair; lovely light brown skin. And her dark-lashed eyes, their blue-gray so striking, so clear and honest and loving.
The best part was, her physical beauty was only a small part of what made her so special.
No, the best part was that she loved him.
Her fingers worked busily to free him from his own clothing, and he cooperated until he, too, stood naked. Fully erect. Mischief sparked in her eyes. “You’ve been mending fences? I think you need a very thorough shower.” She turned on the water and adjusted the temperature, then stepped in behind the shower curtain. “And I’m going to make sure you get it.”
When he followed her in, he knew the shower would be warm but not too hot, and knew also how much she missed being able to have steaming hot showers and baths. As for him, he didn’t care about the temperature as long as Cassidy was there. She lathered oatmeal soap onto a turquoise bath sponge, both items she’d added to his bathroom.
When he reached for her, she said, “Uh-uh, you’re not touching me again until you’re clean from head to toe, and everywhere in between.” Clearly, she intended to torture him.
Great plan!
“Turn around, facing into the spray,” she ordered.
He obeyed. The warm needles of water were stimulating, but nowhere near as much as the firm circles she drew on his shoulders with the soapy sponge. Up his neck, down again, out to his shoulder cap, in to his spine. The fluffy sponge had a gentle abrasiveness that made his skin tingle. The fact that it was Cassidy wielding it added a sexy edge that kept him erect.
But he needed to apologize, to explain. “Last night? That wasn’t how I planned to do it.”
“Planned? You had a plan?”
“Hey, it’s me. Of course I had a plan.” Dinner and wine, words that he’d rehearsed. But then fireworks had exploded, overhead and in his heart, and he couldn’t wait. “When I’m spontaneous, things don’t always work out so well—as last night proved.”
“Yet here we are.” She’d worked the sponge down to his lower back and now circled it around one of his butt cheeks.
Damned happy they were there, he tensed, waiting to see if she’d trace the sponge down his butt crack and between his legs. Shifting weight, he slid his legs farther apart to allow her access. “I’m glad I didn’t totally screw it up.”
“Why did you deviate from your plan?”
He’d asked himself that question more than once, giving himself a mental kick for being such an idiot. “The whole evening. You, with me in the middle of Caribou Crossing on one of the most fun nights of the year. You belonging here, it seemed to me. Belonging with me. I always love fireworks and I guess I was feeling romantic or something, and I blurted it out.”
The sponge paused in circling his other butt cheek. “It actually was pretty romantic. But you scared me. It was too much, too soon.”
“And that’s why I had a plan,” he said ruefully.
“Tell me your plan.” Her tone told him she was smiling, and the sponge now did drift down the groove between his butt cheeks.
“Over an excellent dinner and some very expensive wine, I intended to cover off some stuff first,” he said absentmindedly. The rough caress moved between his legs, brushed his balls.
“Such as?”
He wanted to grip his cock. Better still, have her do it. The sponge gave more teasing flicks, then moved down his sensitive inner thigh, and finally to the less erotic back of his leg.
“Dave? Such as?”
“Such as what?” He had no clue what they’d been talking about.
“You planned to cover off ‘some stuff.’”
“Oh, right.” He breathed in and out more slowly. “Like, I know you love going to new places, seeing new things.”
“I do. Caribou Crossing is terrific but I can’t imagine never traveling anywhere else.”
“I figured. And I’m good with that, Cassidy. I admit that I’ve barely gone anywhere, but it’s not that I’m not interested. If there were places you’d like to go together, or with Robin, we could do that. You got her all excited about those baby turtles.” The sponge rubbed his calf now. He gazed down over his shoulder to see Cassidy squatting on the floor of the shower, black hair plastered to her head. “Or if you want to travel on your own, you could do that.”
She glanced up. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“I don’t want to tie you down. I know your independence is important to you.”
“It is.” She moved the sponge to his other calf. “But traveling together would be fun too. How would it work? Leaving the Wild Rose for two or three weeks, maybe even longer?”
“I could do that.” Anxiety made him swallow. “We’d have to train someone to take over. Maybe Madisun would be interested in working here full-time when she graduates. She has a lot of potential and she’s very responsible.”
“She is. No wonder, growing up in a family like hers.” Cassidy’s sponge had reached his thigh now but the serious topic diluted the sexiness of the touch. “Thank God for Evan, and for you,” she said.
“Much more him than me.” Evan—a child of abuse—had figured out that Madisun’s father abused her and his wife. Evan told the man that if he ever hit any of his family again, he’d call the cops. Then Evan funded Madisun to go to university. When she focused on the hospitality industry, Dave had hired her.
“Dave?” Cassidy was standing now, touching his back, urging him to turn around. When he did, she rested her hands on his shoulders. “I need to know you aren’t rescuing me.”
“What?”
“You kind of rescued Madisun.”
He shook his head. “I gave her a job. Turns out she’s the best employee I’ve ever had, except for you.”
“It seems to me you rescued Jess when she was pregnant.”
He opened his mouth to deny it, then slowly said, “I guess I kind of did. It seemed like the right thing at the time.”
“And maybe it was.”
“Or maybe it wasn’t,” he admitted. “If I’d encouraged her to tell Evan, maybe they wouldn’t have lost ten years. She and I both figured he wouldn’t be happy in Caribou Crossing. But hell, if he loved her, maybe he would have.”
“It’s the past. You and Jess did what you thought was best at the time. But Dave, I’m not her.” She gazed earnestly into his eyes. “I’m not seventeen, I’m not pregnant. I’ve looked after myself for ten years and I can keep doing it. I don’t need to be rescued.”
“I get that. Just because I can be a little overprotective and controlling—something I’m working on—doesn’t mean I’m trying to rescue you.” He sighed and admitted something. “I was the one who needed rescuing. I’d wallowed too long; then you came along and rescued me.”
“Is that why you love me? Because I broke you out of, uh . . . ?”
“Depression. Hopelessness. I don’t know exactly what it was, but it was a dark, dead place. Even with the wonderful stuff in life, like Robin, it was like I was distanced from it, seeing it all through a gray fog. Now the fog’s gone. I see life in all its”—he broke off—“I was going to say beauty. But it’s not always beautiful, is it? I see all its complexity.”
“Your dimple’s been getting exercise.” She stroked his face and, as he grinned, tucked the tip of her little finger into the pocket in his cheek. “I love that dimple.”
“I love you, Cassidy. I guess it’s partly because you rescued me, but you did that because of who you are. And I love you because of who you are. Feminine and strong, independent and generous, fun and responsible.” He shook his head. “I’m listing off attributes, but it’s so much more than that. It’s how everything combines to make this amazing person. It’s how I feel when I’m with you, or even think about you. Does that make any sense?”
Her eyes glowed. “Yes. It’s the perfect description, and it’s how I feel about you.”
“So does that mean . . . we’re good?”
“Oh, we’re very good,” she purred mischievously.
“Will you think seriously about it? About staying here and giving our love a chance?”
Slowly, she shook her head, but her eyes were dancing. “No. No more thinking. I’ve decided. Yes. Yes, Dave, I want to stay with you.”
Yes. The most beautiful word in the world. He squeezed his eyes shut with relief, breathed in gut deep, then slowly let air out. A sense of peace seeped into his soul. Opening his eyes, he reached out to hug her, but she took a step back.
“Oh no”—she lifted the sponge—“I still have your front to wash.”
Delicious, sensual torture. On the other hand, sometimes a guy needed to exert control. Firmly, he took the sponge from her. “I’m clean enough.”
The sparkle in her eyes glinted brighter. “Clean enough for what?”
“This.” He bent his head to take her lips, delving between them to possess the sweet depths of her mouth.
Cassidy was his. For laughter and joy, for arguments and worries, for life in all its full, amazing complexity.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Cassidy gazed around Jess and Evan’s living room. It was everything that Christmas morning should be. A fire blazed in the river stone fireplace, carols played softly in the background, and a tall Douglas fir sported twinkling lights, tinsel, and a variety of ornaments, most of them homemade. Under the tree were dozens of brightly wrapped packages.
It brought back happy memories of family Christmases when she was small. Now here she was, having been more or less adopted into this family gathering: Jess and Evan, Miriam and Wade Bly, Brooke and Jake Brannon, the two babies, and of course, most importantly, Robin and Dave. This afternoon, the three of them would head over to Dave’s parents’ place for a second family gathering, and a turkey dinner. Robin had told her that her mom’s family and her dad’s traded each year who got Christmas morning with them and who got dinner.
Cassidy, wearing the red cashmere sweater Maribeth had saved for her, accepted a mug of hot chocolate from Evan and a slice of blueberry cinnamon coffee cake from Jess. Settling contentedly on a couch beside Dave, she watched Robin commandeer the doling out of gifts.
It was a slow process. One gift to her mom, and then everyone waited while Jess opened it and exclaimed with pleasure. Then a gift to Miriam, then Brooke.
Cassidy thought that, while there were bound to be gifts for her under that tree, she’d already received everything she could possibly want. What a weird trick of fate that only months after being diagnosed with a life-altering chronic illness her life was fuller and happier than she’d ever imagined it could be.
She still woke each morning wondering if her body would let her down, and she still suffered an occasional pseudoexacerbation, but there’d been no fresh attack of MS. One thing she’d learned: having an unpredictable disease made her feel grateful and lucky for each healthy day.
And she’d had some terrific days. Last week, she’d spent hours with her brother, sharing memories and catching up, and then she’d watched him wed lovely, warmhearted Mags. She’d also spent time with her parents, some of it awkward, but she could see the changes in them, including a willingness to put her and JJ first. At least sometimes.
And then there was Dave. Their relationship was real. Not perfect, but perfectly wonderful as they shared fears and doubts as well as tenderness and passion, every moment filled with love.
While Cassidy was busy counting her blessings, Robin had identified presents for the babies, which she helped them open, and moved on to presents for the men. With glee, she said, “And now it’s my turn!” She chose one from Cassidy, a calendar with photos of wild horses for each month, and seemed thrilled to bits.
“Oh gosh, Cassidy, I forgot about you.” Robin’s eyes twinkled as she handed over an envelope. “This is from me.”
Inside was a Christmas card with a drawing of several wire-mesh caribou pulling a sleigh holding Santa and a bag of gifts. An original work of art by Robin. “What a terrific card!” A slip of paper fell out and Cassidy bent to retrieve it. It was a check for twenty-five dollars drawn on the girl’s bank account and made out to the Multiple Sclerosis Society of Canada. Cassidy gazed up in wonder.
“So they’ll find a cure,” Robin said.
“Oh my gosh. That’s the best present ever.” She reached out to hu
g her warmly, this girl who’d become as dear to her as a sister or a daughter.
Jess rose. “I’m glad you think so.” She came over and handed Cassidy another envelope. “This is from Evan and me.”
“From Jake and me,” Brooke chimed in, flourishing another card.
“From Wade and me.” Miriam had another.
“And me.” Dave added one to the pile accumulating on her lap.
By now, tears were slipping down her cheeks. “You guys, this is amazing. Thank you so much.”
Dave handed her two more. “These were entrusted to me. They’re from JJ and Mags, and your mom and dad.”
Miriam leaned forward to offer a tissue and Cassidy blew her nose, which must have been as red as her sweater. She had a chance to recover as, for the next half hour, Robin choreographed more rounds of gifts. Thank heavens Cassidy’s presents had all come in one fell swoop, or she’d have been a teary mess all morning.
The pile was seriously reduced when Robin flourished another envelope. “This is for you too, Cassidy. Open it.”
Another check? But she’d already received checks from everyone in the room. She slipped a finger under the sealed flap and drew out the card. This, too, was Robin’s artwork. A wild horse stood on a hillside, gazing up at the moon, where three wild geese flew in a V. “Wow, that’s gorgeous.” She opened the card and read, in Robin’s neat handwriting:
To Cassidy,
This card entitles the bearer to a tattoo of two wild geese to join the goose with the moon on her wing.
Love,
Robin and Dad
“Two wild geese?” She gazed at the girl, touched. “What a cool idea.”
“They’re me and Dad.” Robin put her hand on Cassidy’s shoulder, where her sweater covered her tattoo. “So you don’t have to fly alone anymore. Do you like it?”